Accidental Youth
by Pakmai
Summary: After Dartmoor, Sherlock becomes obsessed with his current experiment, which has to do with the hallucinogen that affected them. Unfortunately an accident creates a mix of chemicals and a small explosion which has unexpected results. Now Greg Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson have two small wards until Sherlock can fix it. Kid!Fic, Paternal!Lestrade, Sherlock/John, post HoB.
1. Chapter 1

**I never thought I would write a Kid!Fic. But I got excited about this one. This whole idea is Duochanfan's fault, but the fic is also dedicated to her because she is not feeling well and I wanted to write something to cheer her up. :) So here you are, I hope you enjoy it!**

**I hope you all enjoy this, Reviews/Comments welcome!**

**I do not own Sherlock, I am just having fun with the characters for a while. :)**

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After the Hounds of Baskerville, as John dubbed it in his blog, things get both better and worse. Better because Sherlock seems a little more mellow, whether it's from mostly getting out of his nicotine addiction or if it's just because of the events of the case no one is quite sure. Still, it's been weeks and there hasn't been an interesting case. Which usually drives Sherlock up a wall. Unfortunately he has something else that has caught his attention, and that is where the worse comes in.

The detective has been buried in an experiment for the last week and it's something that is starting to concern John. "Eat." The doctor demands as he puts a plate down next to Sherlock which has two pieces of jam on toast on it. He's holding a cup of tea in his own hand which he sips at, watching the profile of the other man. A horrible thought crosses his mind as he looks down at his tea for a moment, then back at the detective. "Tell me your experiment has nothing to do with the gas we were exposed to at Baskerville."

"Of course not, John. I wouldn't expose us to those compounds again." Sherlock says in a dismissive tone which calls John an idiot without saying so many words. "The individual compounds are much more interesting." He says casually as he focuses the microscope, but he does use one hand to pick up some toast and eat it slowly, the other writing down notes in his small notebook, before he changes slides.

Pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment, John closes his eyes. "Bloody hell, Sherlock, are you trying to kill us?" He demands, frowning as he drops his hand to glare at the detective. But he's distracted when there's two quick buzzes at the front door.

"Lestrade." The two say in unison, making John look up in surprise and laugh softly, even if he does walk over to the window to confirm his thoughts. It's clear Mrs. Hudson is going to answer the door so John returns to the kitchen. "This does not look safe, Sherlock." He says in a firm tone, moving a few of the beakers out of the way so that they're farther from Sherlock's meager meal.

Unfortunately, in the way that Sherlock often does, he reaches out blindly for another piece of toast, hitting John's hand and knocking them both into the beakers which crash open, mixing random chemicals which splash onto both of their skin.

~oOo~

Not having spoken to either John or Sherlock since seeing them at Dartmoor, Lestrade has decided to check up on them, having a minor case that Sherlock is sure to solve in an instant but it gives him a good reason to be there. So he hits the buzzer and waits, knowing full well it will probably be the landlady that opens the door rather than either John or Sherlock, not that he minds since she's a nice lady.

"Oh! Detective Inspector, so good to see you! The boys haven't had a case since they got back, and heaven knows what is going on in that kitchen, Sherlock's got some sort of experiment going, it just doesn't look safe to me. Of course, nothing does when it comes to Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson says with a little laugh. "But they're both up there, you can go right up." She reassures, patting the younger man's arm gently with a little smile.

Just as Lestrade is about to reply, smiling at the fondness that the landlady has for her two younger charges, there is a muffled explosion, like a cherry bomb going off. That snaps both of their attention upwards, and Lestrade is immediately turning toward the stairs, taking them two at a time. He hears something odd before he sees what happened, there being a cloud of smoke in the kitchen.

"Bloody hell, Sherlock, what happened?!" John demands, coughing and waving a hand in front of his face. Which is when he notices two different things. One, his sleeves are about a foot too long for his arms now, and also his voice is octaves higher than it should be. In fact, he sounds like he did before he hit puberty, and that is when he looks down at himself, realizing with shock that while he may have the mind of a 40 year old man, he now appears to be roughly 10 years old. "SHERLOCK!" He nearly screeches after a moment.

Sherlock for his part, is picking himself up off the floor with difficulty, tangled in his suit jacket, tie and shirt, his normal baritone voice higher as well as he looks over at John. "Fascinating. It appears that some combination of these chemicals has caused us to become physical younger, though we appear to have maintained our mental faculties." His normal analytical tone sounding odd coming from a child's voice. Once he gets his gangly legs under him, he walks over to where John is, measuring their heights and looking down at himself. "Odd. I appear to be around 12, while you appear to be younger." He says as he pulls his sleeves back to free his hands, reaching out to touch John's blonde hair.

Lestrade is in complete shock as he stares at the two children in front of him, jaw dropped as he stares at them, before he shakes his head for a few moments. "Bloody hell.." he mutters softly, scrubbing a hand over his face. "This.. how am I going to explain this.." he mutters softly as he covers his eyes with his hand.

Mrs. Hudson peeks around Lestrade and she stares as well. "Oh, Sherlock.. what have you done?" She says in an affectionate, scolding tone as she walks over to them. "We need to get you some proper clothes, look at you!" She says as she walks over to reach out and remove the tie from around Sherlock's neck, helping John separate his jumper from his t-shirt so he's not dragged down by both of them. "Sherlock, where is your phone dear, I imagine your brother might know where some of your old clothes are, I think I might have some from my son that would fit both of you, they're downstairs. Inspector Lestrade, why don't you look after them for a few minutes, I'll bring something back." She says with an affectionate ruffle of Sherlock's hair.

"I am going to bloody well kill you, Sherlock. Where is my bloody gun?!" John demands after he is just in his t-shirt, which is still way too big for him now. He actually strikes a rather amusing picture, glaring up at the taller boy, still stocky even at this age, with a rounder face of course, all of his former wrinkles gone.

Sighing and crossing his arms over his chest somewhat petulantly, Sherlock watches John. "Oh, relax, John. It's not as if this is irreversible. Worst case scenario, we've just gained a second life. Imagine everything we could accomplish, John!" He says excitedly, grabbing John's arms and giving him a little shake, there being a slightly manic light in his eyes.

"Alright, boys..." Lestrade says, awkwardly catching John before he can do anything to hurt Sherlock, lifting him bodily. "Come on, you two." he says as he walks to the living room and sits John down on one end of the couch, then he motions to Sherlock. "Sit." he says as he points to the other end of the couch, with him sitting on the coffee table looking at the two. "Sherlock is right, this isn't the end of the world." He says as he looks between them. "But it's important that we learn as much as possible. I think we need to take you to a doctor, get your ages confirmed, make sure there's no detrimental effects. We'll get you whatever else you need and we'll call Mycroft-" When Sherlock starts to object, he holds up a hand sharply to stop the objection. "No. We are calling Mycroft, we may need help with some legal documents. For now, I can just say that I found you somewhere, on a case or something. Mrs. Hudson can officially take you into her care, but we need to explain what happened to your older selves.. holiday in America maybe?" he asks as he looks between the two.

Crossing his arms over his chest and absolutely not pouting, even if he really is, Sherlock looks away from Lestrade, angry that they have to contact his brother, knowing that it will be one more thing that Mycroft can lord over him and it frustrates him to no end.

Always the more sensible of the two, John sighs and nods. "I understand." He says as he looks at Lestrade. "A big case in America, tell people that. We can still be contacted via email or text, but say something about our mobile plans not working very well, so we're limited to text or email only." he says as he looks at the older man before he gets upon his hands and knees on the crouch, crawling over to sit beside Sherlock, reaching out and taking his hand casually. "It's fine, Sherlock. It's all fine." He decides, now that he's calmed down. "We'll find out what happened, and reverse it. Or if we can't, then at least we'll go through this together. I mean, we won't be alone, we'll have each other and go through it together." he says awkwardly, blushing as he looks away from Sherlock, but he doesn't let go of his hand.

Looking over at the now younger boy, which he has more trouble wrapping his mind around than anything, Sherlock considers their situation and everything it entails. He finds himself less in control of his emotions than he normally is, and while that frustrates him, it also makes him feel protective of his friend, so he drops his hand and wraps both arms around the younger boy's shoulders. "You're right, John. We'll get through this one way or another. I'll fix it." he says with confidence he's not sure he can follow up on.

Watching this interaction, Lestrade just smiles a little, since he's always felt a bit fatherly toward Sherlock, though John is more of a good mate than anything else. "That's the spirit." He says with a nod of his head. "Come on, you both need to get cleaned up before Mrs. Hudson brings back those clothes." He says as he gets up and walks toward their bathroom, getting their shampoos and such down from the high shelf they keep them on so the boys can get to it. He looks around, making sure that towels are available, looking to the door and seeing the two standing there, hand in hand. "I imagine you boys can take it from here." He says awkwardly before he steps out, not sure if they want to shower together or apart, but he figures that they can figure it out on their own.

"You go first." John says as he hops up to sit on the toilet. "I'll wait, in case Mrs. Hudson brings back clothes. You have to wash your hair." he says as he indicates the mop of curls on the other boy's head, still feeling a little depressed overall.

Making sure the door is closed, Sherlock leans into the shower to turn it on, before he looks over at John for a moment. "At least we won't have to shave." He says with a little laugh as he puts his hands on John's cheeks for a moment, leaning in to put his forehead against John's. "It'll be ok. I'll have little else to do besides try and find a cure, no one will take me serious as a 12 year old." He notes as he looks into those deep blue eyes of his doctor.

"I suppose it's not that bad. At least I'm not the only one that was affected." John says with a smirk, steam starting to fill the bathroom, and he puts his smaller hands on Sherlock's wrists. "Blimey, you were always skinny, weren't you?" he asks, pulling Sherlock's hands away from his face to spread his arms out a little and look at his small arms. Even if they're not younger mentally, being in younger physical bodies is somehow freeing, being able to push away a lot of the hang-ups that might influence a person as an adult. Which is why John drops Sherlock's arms, then puts his hand on the younger man's waist, feeling his ribs. "Bloody hell, you need to eat." he says in a firm tone, then motions. "Shower's hot." he says as he withdraws his hands.

Submitting himself to the exam, Sherlock smirks a little. "And you need to eat less, you're chubby." he says as he pinches John's cheek, then pokes him in the stomach. Finally, he nods, glancing toward the shower before getting out of his shirt and climbing in.

A few moments later there's a knock at the door and a familiar, "Hoo-hoo." Of Mrs. Hudson, before she opens the door a little. "Oh, there you are, John. Sherlock's in the shower, then, is he?" She asks in a conspiratorial tone, smiling a little. "Here you are, these should be around your size, John, and here's a set for Sherlock. Lestrade is calling Sherlock's brother now, so we should have something better for you soon." She says as she ruffles his hair, then smiles. "I'll just go clean up a bit. Don't worry, I'll be careful, then I'll make you boys some lunch." She says affectionately before she puts the clothes down, then leaves the room.

"Did she bring clothes?" Sherlock calls over the water, not having heard the individual words, just the tone of Mrs. Hudson talking.

"Yes. She's going to clean up very carefully, and then make us lunch." he says as he looks at the clothes, nodding in approval of his own, looking over toward the shower as he impatiently waits for Sherlock to come out.

Without turning off the water, Sherlock opens the shower stall, hair wet and slicked back as he grabs a towel and puts it around himself as he climbs out. "Your turn." he says, not able to see very well since water is still falling into his eyes from his hair.

Sliding down from the toilet, John nods, getting out of the shirt and climbing into the shower, hissing a little at the hot water, but it feels nice so he stays under it longer than necessary maybe before scrubbing himself clean and washing his hair.

Sherlock dries himself off, examining his body for a few moments before he finds what clothes are obviously his since they consist of a button-down shirt, slacks and a suit jacket, which just makes him smirk a little. But he does dress dutifully before rubbing a towel over his hair to get most of the moisture out. Therefore, besides the sound of the water stopping, he doesn't see John get out of the shower, only feels a nudge on his shoulder for him to move out of the way a bit.

When he finally has his hair somewhat dry, Sherlock pulls the towel away from his head. "John." he says quite seriously, glad he's caught the man before he puts on his shirt. "Wait." he says as he reaches out, putting his hand on the shirt, before he takes John by the shoulders and turns him, frowning a little. "It's just as I thought, this is going to get complicated. It seems that most if not all of our physical markings, scars, things like that, are still there." he says as he points to John's shoulder where the scar from the bullet wound is still there, though a bit smaller and appearing less severe. But more importantly, his RAMC tattoo is still on his arm. "I understand that you're not a pediatrician, John, but it might be best for you to do our examinations. Most of the basic principles are the same, we can have Lestrade bring a blood sample from each of us to Molly, and she can make sure that there are no harmful pathogens." he says with a firm nod of his head, leaning over to examine the tattoo which looks freshly inked instead of slightly faded.

Looking at the scar and then his tattoo, John nods a little with a small sigh. "Yeah, that's going to be complicated if anyone sees. The scar I could probably think of a way to explain, but not the tattoo." He sighs a little, before he pulls his t-shirt on, and then the jumper on over that, adjusting the clothes before he gets up onto the toilet to reach the medicine cabinet, grabbing his comb and Sherlock's brush to hold it out to the detective.

Once they are presentable, Sherlock takes John's hand again, staying a little ahead of the smaller boy as he leads them back out into the main room, feeling strangely vulnerable and a touch nervous about facing Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade. Surprisingly, the kitchen has been relatively cleaned up and Mrs. Hudson is just bringing a tray over to the living room where a spot has been cleaned off on the coffee table.

There is tea and sandwiches on the tray, and Mrs. Hudson smiles at the two. "Oh, there you are.. don't you look so much better.." She says approvingly with a nod of her head. "Sit down you two, you both need something in those bellies of yours." She says in a firm tone as she points at the food.

John nods a little, and tugs Sherlock over to the couch, making their tea the way they each like it before he puts a plate with sandwiches on it on the brunette's lap, hopping up onto the couch beside him and tugging over the plate a bit so they can share off of it. Whatever it is that happened has torn down a few of the walls between the two men, making John more comfortable, and Sherlock able to open up a little more. So far, at least. Then again, it may just be the shock of everything.

Lestrade watches them carefully and then shakes his head. "This is going to take some getting used to." He admits, snagging a sandwich off the tray with a bit of a grin before he glances at Mrs. Hudson. "Mycroft is sending a car for them. I'll be going with them. You don't happen to have any shoes or jackets for them, do you?" he asks as he looks at the bare feet of the two.

"Hm. I just might have some jackets, I know I have some socks, but I'm afraid I might not have any shoes, I'm sorry..." Mrs. Hudson fusses as she looks at the two, before she says, "Let me go check."S he says with a firm nod of her head, disappearing downstairs again.

Looking over at John for a few moments as he eats, Sherlock then looks back at Lestrade. "We don't need shoes. I'm sure Anthea will have something for us, we'll only be going a few steps to the car. We'll need to locate our phones and keys." He says, looking over at his Belstaff where it's hanging up, giving a little, longing sigh.

Not being able to help himself, John starts giggling as he sees what Sherlock is doing. "Guess you can't flap around in that bloody coat of yours anymore." he says with another little giggle, finishing eating and then finishing his tea. He finally slips off the couch, putting the plate in Sherlock's lap. "Finish that." he says as he points to the other half of a sandwich. "I'll find our phones." He says as he starts to look around, finding Sherlock's clothes and digging around until he finds his phone, notebook and pen, then he wanders about until he finds his own pants and grabs his phone out of it. "Found them." he announces as he holds them up.

By the time that John gets back with the phones, Sherlock has finished the food, feeling stuffed. Mrs. Hudson comes back in time to give them jackets and socks before there's a honk from down below. "That's the car. Go down, Lestrade, we'll follow shortly." he says as he wiggles into his socks and slips on his jacket, putting his phone into one of the pockets, before he waits for John. "Don't let anything that Mycroft says get to you, John. Just remember how much better of a person you are than him." He says in a firm tone as he watches the blonde, making sure they have keys to the flat as well as their phones before he takes John's hand again and heads downstairs, taking the keys from John in order to lock up since he's the taller of the two before he climbs into the back of the car, noting the conspicuous absence of Anthea. Though it's probably a good thing that as few people as possible know about what's happened.

"Cars always made me more sleepy as a kid for some reason.." John says after they are in and are heading off toward their destination. He takes a deep breath and sighs a little, tipping his head over onto Sherlock's shoulder, deciding that since the detective is responsible for what's happened, he can suffer the consequences.

Sherlock nods a little as he watches John. "If we are being brought to the house, then you have some time to rest, John." He reassures, squeezing his hand before he relaxes back in the seat, allowing himself to be used as a pillow as he attempts to go to his Mind Palace.

For his part, Lestrade just watches the two, finding them both quite endearing like this, and interesting that they are more comfortable expressing their friendship, though if he's not mistaken, it seems like Sherlock is being a little more protective of his doctor than he usually is. Lifting a hand, he ruffles Sherlock's hair affectionately before he smiles.

"Go on, you two. Get some sleep. Your young bodies need it."


	2. Chapter 2

When they finally arrived at the mansion that is Mycroft Holmes' home, Lestrade reaches over to shake the two boys awake gently, smiling as he watches them. "We're here, guys." He says before he gets out, waiting beside their door for them to come out.

Sleepily, John yawns and stretches his smaller arms before he glances at the utterly blank face of his friend that offers no comfort or clue as to how this will go. Finally, he gets out of the car, careful on the steps so he doesn't accidentally misjudge the distance.

"We didn't need to come here, we could have stayed at Baker Street." Sherlock says to no one in particular as he enters the house, and the three are shown toward the sitting room.

John reaches out and takes Sherlock's hand in a silent show of comfort and unity, giving him a firm nod before he looks around the room, finding it hard to disguise his awe. Of course everything looks a bit bigger from his diminished height, but he still finds it impressive.

And sitting behind a large mahogany desk is Mycroft, who looks up with a flicker of surprise crossing his face. Finally, he sighs and puts down his pen, watching Sherlock in particular. "My dear brother. What have you done to yourself now? And Dr. Watson, I presume?" He asks with an arched eyebrow at John. "I thought that this might have been a very elaborate prank at first, Inspector, but it seems I have rightly judged you as an honest man." He admits before he gets up and walks over to the pair, crouching down in front of them.

Despite appearances? Mycroft does have more than a little experience dealing with Sherlock when he was this age, and while he recognizes that his brother has retained his mental faculties if his blatantly angry and defiant look is anything to go by, he also knows it cannot be easy on him either. "I suggest you stay here until we arrange for a doctor and to get you some proper clothes."

"I am a doctor, still, I can perform our examinations. While I am sure we appreciate your help, Mycroft, we can return to Baker Street just fine." John says firmly as he regards the (now) older man. His hand tightens around Sherlock's as he glances over at the decidedly unhappy detective.

"While I am sure you are still capable, and it may be endearing to see you drag a box around to reach the examination table, I worry about decreased dexterity. It would be wise to get a second opinion, since your expertise is not genetics." Mycroft says firmly as he looks at the two calmly. He knew he might have a fight on his hands from the two after his suggestion, but he fully expected to get more out of Sherlock than the silent treatment, which makes him a little suspicious. He's waiting for the explosion to happen which he is sure is forming in that head of his.

Before John can say anything else though, Sherlock turns to look at John, giving his hand a little squeeze. "As much as I am sure you know it pains me to admit it, Mycroft is right. You are a brilliant surgeon, John, very skilled in your particular field, but you are not a genetics expert. It would be wise to defer to someone with more expertise in this matter. As for staying here, I am sure you can gather how I feel about that, but there is little we can do, especially if we are supposed to be in America on a case, it would be best if we appeared to be absent from Baker Street, at least for a while. I am sure that I can be provided with a lab here in which to try and make an antidote." He says quietly, sighing a little, while he returns to glaring at his brother. "John and I will be sharing a room." he announces after a moment as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Of course, John is getting pretty angry. Because they had previously agreed that he should do their examinations, and he does not want to be poked or prodded by one of Mycroft's goons also known as doctors, nor does he want to stay in this mausoleum of a house for any length of time. He yanks his hand from Sherlock's and glares at him. "You need to make up your bloody mind, Sherlock. I don't want to be poked and prodded by any bloody genetics doctor. And I do not want to stay here. I want to go home. To Baker Street. Sleep in my own bloody bed, in my own bloody room!" He says in a slightly angry tone, stomping his foot unconsciously. And worst of all, he feels tears pricking at the backs of his eyes, then his vision going blurring as they become worse. When he was this age the first time, it always seemed to him that his tear ducts were hard wired to his temper, so whenever he got angry, he would start crying which confused more than one person. He thought he had outgrown it, but something about being this age has brought that response back, and before he knows it, he has his hands pressed over his eyes as he starts crying because he's so angry over this situation.

Staring in shock at the other man, Sherlock finds himself not knowing what to do. He's never seen John cry before. He doesn't know exactly what happened to make him cry, his hands lifting as he looks at the little soldier helplessly.

Having stayed off to the side listening to the conversation before now, Lestrade walks over and he sighs as he sees John crying, getting down on one knee, he turns the (now) younger man and pulls him into a hug. It's a little strange, but he can't help but want to comfort the apparent young boy, his paternal instincts kicking into full gear. He gently rubs John's back as he holds him, looking at Sherlock over his shoulder. "Come on. This has been hard on both of you, as much as you might want to think otherwise. Mycroft, why don't we get the boys settled in a room?" He asks as he looks at the elder Holmes, before he reaches out a hand toward Sherlock, taking him by the wrist and bringing him closer, using his other hand to pull John away from him a little and turn him to nudge him toward Sherlock before he puts the detective's arm around John to try and show him what to do.

Luckily Sherlock is a bit of a genius. Because he figures out what Lestrade intends before he finishes the motion, and Sherlock puts both arms around John, one around his shoulders and the other around his waist to hold him close. "I'm sorry, John.." He says in a soft tone as he listens to the small hiccups coming from the little doctor as he tries to stop his tears.

Content that the two are going to be ok by themselves for a few moments, Lestrade stands and looks at Mycroft. "I have two kids of my own, I kind of miss them being that small.. They're all grown up now." he admits with a little chuckle, running a hand through his hair for a moment before he looks at the elder Holmes.

Mycroft seems to feel a little awkward but he nods quietly as he looks at Lestrade. "I have some experience with Sherlock when he was younger, but not children in general." He says before he walks to the desk, writing something down on a piece of paper, folding it in half before he returns to Lestrade, holding it out to him, along with a credit card. "Since you are no doubt more familiar with shopping for your own children, perhaps you should be the one to get clothing for them. This card has more than enough money available, and their respective sizes are on that paper." he says simply as he watches the Detective Inspector, then returns to his desk to pick up a phone. "Yes, my dear, I think they are ready to be settled into their room now." he says into the phone before hanging it up.

Staring for a few moments, Lestrade looks at the paper and card before he nods quietly. "Yeah, I suppose I do." he says in agreement about having more experience shopping for kids. "Well.. I'll be off, then." He says before he turns to head out, reaching the door the same time as Anthea is coming in. She's in a suit, but with trousers instead of a skirt today, her phone being tucked away as she comes inside. When she sees the two boys, her expression softens and she smiles. "Well. Aren't you two adorable." She says as she walks over. "Come on. I'm to show you to your room." She says quietly as she touches each of their shoulders lightly.

Pulling away from Sherlock, who he had been clinging to a little, hands grasping the side of the other boy's shirt, John sniffles a little, rubbing his eyes with his hands and wiping his face before he nods quietly, glancing at Sherlock uncertainly. "Thank you." he mumbles softly before he glances up at Anthea for a moment, wiping his hands on his pants, reaching out to rub at a wet spot on Sherlock's shirt, very focused for a moment, a little distressed that he's marred the dress shirt.

Sherlock just nods a little as he looks at John, reaching out to brush some moisture from his chin for a few moments. He swats John's hand away from his shirt before he says, "It's fine, John." And he takes the other boy's hand before he looks up at Anthea expectantly. "Well?" He asks in a childishly demanding tone, his higher tone taking some of the bite out of his actions even if he still sounds bored.

Not bothered at all by Sherlock's waspishness, Anthea straightens and turns to walk out of the room, glancing back to make sure the boys are following her before she leads the way upstairs to a room at the back of the house. It's more than big enough for the both of them, with an attached bathroom, and a large window seat overlooking the garden in the back. She opens the door and steps inside, then motions. "There's some sleep clothes on the bed, Mrs. Hudson was kind enough to provide the sizes for us so we could have something here for you to sleep in. The bathroom is right over there, I trust you won't need help operating anything in there." She says with a little chuckle, then walks over to the large queen bed, pulling out a small step stool from under the bed. "Just in case." She says innocently. "I'll have some nibbles sent up, perhaps a bit of tea. Decaffeinated though, I think." She says as she looks back at them, walking over. "Probably best if you stay here for the rest of the evening." She says, before she adds, "Oh. I almost forgot." She says as she walks over and pushes a panel of the wall aside, revealing a good sized TV, at a perfect angle to watch from the bed, and she brings the remote back. "In case you get bored."S he says with a little smile.

Nodding slowly and just wanting Anthea to go away at this point, Sherlock watches her warily for a few moments. "Thank you, Anthea." He says before he takes the remote from her, watching her and waiting for her to leave before he turns toward John. "John. Are you alright?" he asks, tossing the remote onto the bed before he ducks down a little, putting his hands on either side of John's face, holding it still so he can look into his eyes.

Having sort of expected this examination, John sighs and then nods quietly, sniffling lightly as he lifts his hands to curl them around the thin wrists of the brunette. "Yes. I'm fine, Sherlock. When I was younger.. well.. when I was this age the first time.. every time I got angry, I would end up crying. Which only made me more angry and made me cry more. I thought I had outgrown it.. it seems some things never change." He explains, avoiding looking at the detective for a few moments, before he looks up into those blue-green eyes. "I just.. would rather be home, in my own bed." he says as he starts to move away, leaning down and stripping off his dirty and damp socks before he walks over to hop up into the window seat, scooting as close to the window as he can get so he can tilt his head against the glass and look out over the garden.

Considering what to do for a few moments, Sherlock finally follows suit in removing his socks, swiftly changing into his night clothes which are a more comfortable pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, similar to what he wears around Baker Street sometimes, before he grabs the blanket off the foot of the bed and walks over to where John is, climbing up onto the window seat beside him. His thin frame and John's overall smallish size make it easy for them to fit side-by-side. He leans against John a little, before pulling the blanket over both of them. "I will find a way to fix this, John." He promises, putting his arm around the doctor and following his gaze out across the garden, glancing up at the darkening sky. "Before you know it, we'll be just as we were and back solving crimes at Baker Street." he says with a little smile.

"Well. I wouldn't mind it if I could be a few years younger when you turned us back." John says before he giggles a little, somewhat exhausted as he helps Sherlock pull the covers up around them both, taking a slow, deep breath. "I know you'll fix it, Sherlock. That's who you are. You're brilliant. Even if it takes a while, that's alright. I'll find something to do, I'm sure, and we'll fix this together. It's not so bad, really. At this age we can still be relatively autonomous." He says as he considers the ups and downs. "I would like to return home as soon as possible, though. I don't like being under Mycroft's thumb."

A small nod is given, Sherlock's curls bouncing a little, before he sighs. "I understand, John." he says before he considers him for a few moments. "We shouldn't stay here. If your shoulder is still scarred like before, the cold and this position will make it sore in the morning." he notes as he thinks about it. "You should change so we can get into bed and relax there instead, it will be much better for your shoulder." he says as he starts to move away from his position, hesitating before he gets up, walking to the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

A small smile curves John's lips as he watches the detective go. Sometimes he can get things exactly right, he can show a caring side of himself, while all other times he can be an unfeeling, arrogant sod, as DI Dimmock once so accurately pointed out. Shaking his head, he sighs as he gets up, because ultimately he knows the detective is right, he can already feel his shoulder stiffening up. Looking at the clothes laid out on the bed, he's glad to find them relatively plain, and he undresses and quickly re-dresses, his clothes from the day being neatly folded and placed in a chair not too far from the bed, before he picks up Sherlock's discarded clothes to fold them as well, Army training kicking in to make him neat. Or at least to control those things in his environment that he has any hope to have control over.

When Sherlock emerges from the bathroom, it's just in time for Anthea to knock and bring in a tray of nibbles and tea that she places on the chest that sits at the foot of the bed. "There you are. You two have a good evening." She says quietly before she walks out, closing the door securely behind her.

By the time John comes out from the bathroom Sherlock has a cup of tea made for him and he holds it out toward the doctor, making up his own cup before he looks down at the selection of small sandwiches and cookies that were brought up. "Jammie dodgers.. they were my favorite growing up." He says as he picks one of them up, nibbling at it for a few moments. He also had more of a sweet tooth when he was younger, until he realized that is how you gained weight and ended up like Mycroft. One of the reasons he curbed his diet, though the other is that the 'food coma' so many go into right after they eat a full meal, frustrated him to no end so he strove to control that just like he controlled everything else in his life.

"I wonder how much our minds will be affected by our bodies. We've already found some instances, such as you eating more, and me crying when I get angry." John says thoughtfully as he picks up a sandwich and eats it slowly, licking his lips as he sips his tea. "Caffeine doesn't seem to affect us very much yet. Though it could be because our bodies are still adjusting.. after effects of whatever the hell happened." he says before he sighs a little, sipping his tea and looking at it. "Oh, that is lovely.." he says before he takes another sip and he picks up a cookie, smiling. "Like you said, though. Worst case scenario is that we have to grow up all over again, right? It's not as if we're going to keep getting younger, or die or something.." He muses as he considers it, closing his eyes. "This has been.. a very long day." He says with a shake of his head, opening his eyes to look at Sherlock before he finishes his tea. "I am bloody glad that you're here with me, though. I would be a little put out if you had changed only me into a kid... That would be bloody annoying." he says with a little shake of his head.

Sherlock can't help but chuckle a little, though it's more of a giggle, looking at John. "Yes. Much better this way. You and me, John. The best of friends, together always." he says as he lifts his cup in a silent salute before he finishes the tea, then he climbs up onto the bed. "Now. I need to visit my mind Palace and see if there has been any damage there." He says as he kicks the covers until his legs are sitting underneath it, steepling his fingers as he lays back, closing his eyes slowly.

"Of course you do. I'll see what's on tellie, then, shall I?" He asks as he grabs the remote and stretches out on the bed on his stomach, looking at the TV before he turns it on and starts flipping channels until he finds Doctor Who. He's not sure when it happens, but apparently at some point he falls asleep, because he feels Sherlock shaking his shoulder, and he jerks awake, lifting his head from where it was rested on his folded arms. "Hm? what happened?" He mumbles softly, sitting up to rub his eyes.

Rolling his eyes a little, Sherlock watches John. "You fell asleep. It looked uncomfortable." he says before he lays back again. "We should both get some rest. As much as I dislike it, a younger body does need more rest, I do not have the control over it as I would otherwise." He says in an annoyed tone.

Giggling a little again, John slides up the bed and slips under the covers next to Sherlock, not finding it at all awkward to share a bed with him, whereas he might have been a few days ago. He turns on his side toward Sherlock, pulling his knees up a little as he watches the other man. "Still don't understand how I became younger." he says sleepily.

Turning the lights and TV off, Sherlock finally returns to bed and lays on his side facing John, shaking his head. "It's a mystery. Perhaps the greatest mystery of my career." he says with a small smile, pulling his knees up a little so their legs barely brush, scooting closer and tilting his head down until their foreheads touch, and he reaches out to take one of John's hands in his, finding the closeness reassuring, the childish innocence of two best friends sharing a bed, sharing their lives. In a way that only children can, before you start thinking about everything in a sexual context and how things might be misconstrued to mean more than they actually do. Before things become complicated.

Nodding slightly, John smiles as he looks at Sherlock, getting comfortable and relaxing, enjoying the closeness and having his best friend sharing this with him. Even if said best friend is the cause of it. "Perhaps. Go to sleep, Sherlock." He says with a small chuckle, before he relaxes a little, taking a deep breath and letting it out as he starts to drift back off to sleep.

Sherlock chuckles a little, but he finally closes his eyes and relaxes, enjoying listening to the even cadence of John's breathing as he starts to drift off as well.

"Goodnight, John."

* * *

**Woot, chapter two! These two are so incredibly cute to write as kids! Next.. doctor's visit! Doctor's make the worst patient's.. And Lestrade has been elected as the father figure, who decided that? :D He just fits it too well.**

**Hope you're enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it!**

**Reviews/comments welcome!**


	3. Chapter 3

Since Mycroft decided a minimal amount of people should have contact with John and Sherlock when they're in this state, he's given his staff - minimal though it usually is - the week off. Which leaves him and Anthea in the house, while Lestrade promised that he would stop by as often as work permits. The next morning, Anthea slips into the room, smiling as she sees the sleeping forms of the boys, who have moved a little closer in sleep, most of their bodies still distant from each other, but their legs tangled together under the covers.

Shaking her head a little, Anthea clears away the tray from last night and brings in some bags that have a few days' worth of clothes in them, one for each of the boys, before she walks over and shakes Sherlock's shoulder gently, figuring he is the safer one to wake first since he doesn't have army reflexes.

With a small grunt and an unhappy noise, Sherlock turns onto his back a little. "What?" he snaps, then he frowns, his mind catching up as to what happened, and who is there waking him up. At which point he just sighs a little, one hand lifting to rub at his eyes. "What time is it?" he asks groggily, looking over at John's peaceful form as he starts to shift away.

"Nearly seven. Mycroft thought it would be wise to get you on a regular sleeping schedule, and he is aware that John is probably normally an early riser." Anthea explains, then adds, "Breakfast will be ready at 8, there's two bags of clothes, one for each of you. I'm to take you shopping for the rest today." She explains before she smiles. "I'll let you wake up Dr. Watson." She says quietly, before she pauses. "Oh. There's also some toiletries in the bags, we thought it wise to stick with your normal brands since they would be fine for your ages." She says before she walks out and closes the door behind her.

With a little huff, Sherlock glares at Anthea without much effort behind it, before he turns back toward John. "John." He says as he looks at the man, then he props himself up on one elbow in order to have the other arm free to reach out and shake the little doctor gently. "John, wake up." He says again as he watches the seemingly younger boy.

It's probably a good thing that Anthea didn't try to wake John, because while he may be smaller now, he does still have a soldier's instincts. So when he wakes with a start to see a possible attacker hovering over him, he responds aggressively, ending up crouched over Sherlock with one hand on his shoulder to hold him down, the other drawn back ready to hit him. Thankfully he realizes who it is before he can land that punch, and then he collapses somewhat on top of Sherlock. "Bloody hell, Sherlock.." he says as he rolls to the side onto his back. "I thought.. I don't know what I thought, I'm sorry. I should have warned you.. Are you alright?" he asks, sitting up and looking extremely distressed and worried, though his hair sticking up all over the place doesn't help him look any more serious.

Nodding a little, Sherlock smirks as he looks over at John. "It's ok, John. I'm alright." He says as he runs a hand through his hair, then reaches out both hands to smooth down some of John's, frowning briefly in concentration as he pats down the worst of the flyaway's. "Better." He announces with a firm nod. "Breakfast is in an hour. Anthea brought clothes and toiletries for us." He explains as he gets off the bed and walks over to the bags, bringing them back to the bed one at a time and upending them to dump everything out. "Ah. That's yours." He says as he points to one pile that has some jumpers in it. "I'm going to take a shower. Punishment for trying to hit me." He says with a little smirk, sticking his tongue out at John before he snatches up his clothes and toiletries and rushes to the bathroom, closing the door quickly behind him.

A little surprised at the frankly childish behavior from Sherlock, John laughs a little, sliding off the bed to organize their clothes, putting some aside for himself for the day, before he wanders over and starts putting them away in the wardrobe, hanging up a few of his own and Sherlock's shirts before he puts the clothes below the respective sides. After he's done, he returns to make the bed the best he can considering he can't barely lean over it. And he refuses to use the step stool since he thinks that's a bit demeaning. He never needed one before, and he does not need one now.

When Sherlock comes back out, hair still a bit damp and curling at the ends. He looks around at the room, then sighs. "You are obsessively neat, John." he observes in an almost scolding tone, shaking his head a little. "You had better hurry or you won't finish your shower before breakfast. How is your shoulder?" he asks in concern as he walks over and tugs at John's shirt until he can pull it aside and look at his shoulder, frowning a little at what he sees. Without saying anything, he grabs John's arm and drags him into the bathroom to stand in front of the full-length mirror. "Take off your shirt." he demands as he starts tugging at the hem.

"Sherlock, what are you doing?" John demands as he gets dragged, pouting a little, but he sighs, stripping off his shirt. "What is this all about?" He asks, looking at his younger, slightly pudgy self in the mirror with a little frown before he looks at Sherlock, not sure what he's supposed to be looking at.

Moving around behind John after he's removed his shirt, Sherlock leans down and examines John's shoulder, poking at the skin around the scarring for a few moments. "Does this scarring appear to be.. less severe than before?" He asks as he looks at his friend, moving around in front of him to examine that part of the scar.

While he's never really examined it closely before, John pushes Sherlock aside so he can lean toward the mirror, lifting his hand and touching it for a few moments, pressing around the edges as he examines it. "It does seem a little smaller.. but it's hard to tell, because it was smaller when I became smaller.. it doesn't really hurt when I press on it anymore though." He says as he presses around the edges, frowning a little. "Do you think that there might be lingering effects besides the initial change to our younger bodies? Older or more severe injuries may take longer to reverse?" he guesses as he looks at Sherlock, then considers, taking one of his arms and shoving the sleeve up. He's seen the marks before from Sherlock's colorful youth, and since they're less severe than his scar, but more severe than your average scarring.

Knowing what John is trying to do, Sherlock surrenders his arm after a brief tug-of-war, looking away from the doctor since he feels a little ashamed. But he's still curious, so after a moment he looks back at his arm, helping John to get the sleeve of his dress shirt up, turning his arm a little to look at the inside of it, and the very visible veins that his pale skin provides. "Well. That is unexpected." Sherlock admits as he looks at his now flawless skin, unscarred. And just in case he was mistaken which way he used to do it, he shoves up his other sleeve as well, looking at the skin there and shaking his head.

Lowering his head a little to examine Sherlock's skin more closely, John places both his hands on the taller boy's elbow, pressing into the skin lightly as he frowns, which just makes him look adorable. "There's no scarring at all, no apparent damage, even subdural." He says as he looks up at Sherlock, then he turns and twists his arm a little to look at the tattoo. "But my tattoo isn't fading." He adds, seeming even more confused about that.

"Perhaps because it's not damage. It's a pigmentation, but there is no scarring, no damage. Theoretically you could have gotten it as easily now as you would when you are older. The bigger question is, if I find an antidote, will we regain the scars or will they remain gone." Sherlock says thoughtfully as he looks down over at John's shoulder, then at his own arms before he folds his sleeves down. "I think we should keep this to ourselves until we find out more. No doubt Mycroft has a torture session with a doctor." He hesitates, before he adds, "I would like you to remain in the room while I'm with the doctor." He says quietly, then adds, "I don't trust anyone Mycroft would employ." He says simply as he watches John, grabbing onto his arm for a moment, feeling self-conscious.

Nodding a little, John smiles as he watches his friend, then gives him a brief, but firm hug. "Now get out so I can get a shower." he says with a charming grin, pushing Sherlock out of the bathroom and shutting the door on him with a snicker before he starts up the shower.

Making a small sound of objection, Sherlock makes sure his cuffs are buttoned before he moves over to pick up the clothes John had set out for himself, shaking his head for a few moments as he gathers it up, waiting until he hears John enter the shower so as not to interfere with his privacy too much before he brings the clothes in. "You forgot your clothes, I'm putting them on the counter." He calls as he glances over at the shower curiously for a few moments.

John can't help but giggle a little. "Right. Blimey, I feel scatter brained. Thanks, Sherlock!" He chirps, amused and apparently regaining some of his boyish energy it seems.

Giving the shower curtain a dubious look, Sherlock shakes his head and walks back out, leaving John to his routine before he starts pacing the room, having an overabundance of energy himself. At least he's already kicked the nicotine thing, but he's rapidly getting bored, to the point of flipping on the tellie and seeing if there is anything amusing there. Upon finding nothing, he turns it off and throws the remote toward the TV. It falls horribly short, though at least he's throwing it in the right direction.

"You throw like a girl." John says playfully as he comes out from the bathroom, hair still damp but he's dressed, and laughing a little at the glare that he gets from Sherlock. "You're bored, aren't you?" he asks, amused as he walks over to Sherlock. "We should explore the grounds after breakfast, if we're not stuck with the doctors. I bet you and I could get into all kinds of mischief." He says with a broad grin, grabbing Sherlock's hand. "Come on, I'm starving!" he says as he heads toward the door.

A few blinks of surprise as Sherlock is dragged toward the door, and he strides quickly after his friend. "You seem to be enjoying your newfound youth." he notes as he watches John, not able to get into it quite as well because he didn't have any sort of happy childhood, and he was closed off at such an early age. He didn't really intend to get into trouble, but he always seemed to, during the pursuit of his desire to learn.

John considers as he steps outside the door, letting Sherlock lead the way toward the kitchens. "Well, you're the brilliant one, Sherlock. You did this, and if anyone is going to reverse it, it's you." He explains as he looks at the brunette. "I can't really do anything to help besides provide moral support. You didn't get much of a childhood, if you grew up in places like this, so maybe that's something I can do for you." He offers with a little grin, shrugging a little for a few moments. "You're my best friend, Sherlock. Believe it or not. You point it out on a weekly basis, and I know no one is as brilliant as you are. But you're not normal, you know?" he asks as he looks at him. "You're all in here." he says, tapping his head. "You have a lot of walls, and you protect yourself so well. I just thought.. maybe if I could show you what being a kid was like for me, then maybe it would.. I dunno.. free up some of that precious hard drive space.. delete the bits about being broody." he says with a little grin as he glances at Sherlock again, then looks around the corridor, holding onto the railing as he descends the stairs.

Following John's little speech, Sherlock says nothing, just thinking about everything that the other man - boy, now - said while he descends the stairs as well. "I didn't have much of a childhood, no. And you are my best friend as well, John." He says before he adds, "As long as there is no detrimental effects to our health, I suppose there's no rush in getting the antidote besides our own impatience to return to what we were." he says quietly as he looks at John for a few moments. "You're brilliant in your own way. And you are a wonderful focus, you ask questions I would not have thought of, bring me to a solution quickly." He says slowly before he looks over at his friend, stopping in the hallway to watch him. "Thank you." He hesitates and then pulls the smaller boy into a hug. "I'll try to.. learn. We can go explore after breakfast." He says, then his stomach promptly growls and he steps back from John to stare down at himself.

Looking a little surprised as well, John stares at Sherlock's stomach, and then he snickers a little. "Come on. Let's eat." he says with a nod of his head. The hug surprised him as well, but he doesn't mind it so much, it just means that he's breaking through a few of Sherlock's walls. He leads the rest of the way into the kitchen where, oddly enough, Anthea is cooking, having an apron over a nice shirt and a nice pair of slacks, but not exactly a suit. For Anthea, it's downright casual.

"You're late. Just like children to be late." Anthea says with a slight smirk before she puts two plates on the table along with orange juice. "No caffeine for you two, I'm afraid." She says with a smirk. "It might stunt your growth." She says with a pointed look at John.

"That's quite enough, Anthea." Sherlock says in defense of John, frowning a little. "Our growth is predetermined, I doubt that a cup of tea or coffee would stunt our growth. And if that is a concern with caffeine, you could have served us decaffeinated drinks." he points out as he sits down.

Blushing a little despite himself, and the fact that he's getting a bit annoyed, John chooses to remain silent and sits down, starting to eat and staring at his plate, remembering that he was always small until he was around 15, when he finally got a proper growth spurt. Not that he ended up being that tall, but it was better than before the growth spurt.

Anthea glances between the two for a few moments, considering how defensive Sherlock is of John, and how close the two seem to be, as if they were always together. Like they had known each other for years instead of just months. And that makes her happy, because as much as she's known about Sherlock over the years, she thought he would always be alone, without any friends and without anyone to love. Now she has hope that will be different.

"My apologies, Sherlock. I'll make sure to purchase some."

* * *

**I am glad I'm able to make these chapters a little longer, I don't think my normal shorter chapters would really do it justice. As far as the psuedo-science. Yeah. I got nothin'. I'm just making stuff up to suit my story. :D Hope you guys like this, I am loving writing these two adorable boys. :)**

**As always, comments/reviews are welcome!**


	4. Chapter 4

After breakfast is finished, John gets up and grins at Sherlock. "Come on." he says as he bounces on his feet, a little impatiently until Sherlock gets up. Then he realizes that neither of them have shoes, and he turns toward Anthea. "We need shoes." He announces, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, sir." Anthea says in a dry tone, but it's clear that she's amused, clearing the plates before she walks into the other room and comes back with a new pair of shoes for both of them, holding them out. "I trust you don't need any help tying them."

"No. I'll help John if he needs it." Sherlock decides, sitting down on the floor to pull his shoes on, smirking a little as he sees the slightly outraged look on John's face. He is looking forward to whatever John has planned, since this is a new area for him to explore, a new part of humanity to understand. And maybe it will be beneficial, maybe it'll be something he deletes, but either way it won't hurt.

Sitting down beside Sherlock with a small grin, John pulls his shoes on and starts to tie them. After his initial glare at Sherlock, he gives up on trying to be annoyed about anyone implying he's not able to do something, instead he decides to enjoy things how they are, and maybe get Sherlock to enjoy it a little as well. He finishes with his shoes quickly, then hops up quickly, looking down at the brunette. "Come ooonnn." He says with a little groan, impatient and then grinning as he helps Sherlock to his feet.

Getting up from the floor, Sherlock can't help but smile in response to John's infectious grin. "We'll be in the back yard." He announces to Anthea in a confident tone, grabbing John's hand again to lead him outside. It apparently rained overnight, making the ground a little soggy.

"Lets see how well you can run now, Sherlock!" John yells, giggling like mad as he takes off across the lawn, making it a good distance before he hits a patch of mud that he didn't see, and he gives a high-pitched scream of surprise as his feet go out from under him and he lands on his back, mud splattering up around him, into his hair and through his clothes, making him laugh as he stands back up.

After a brief moment of surprise, Sherlock chases after John, laughing since he's always loved running. "John! John! Are you alright?!" He asks, sliding a little on the mud but staying on his feet as he comes to a stop, grabbing John's arms, then giggling a little with him as he sees how ridiculous with mud all down his back and into his hair a little. He tries to help and get the worst of it off, shaking his head a little and finally giving up, but he's still laughing a little.

Snickering a little, John nods a little. "I'm fine.. just muddy. You're supposed to get dirty when you're a kid!" He announces before he grins. "Come on!" He says as he grabs Sherlock's hand and starts jogging, being a little more careful this time.

Following after his flatmate, Sherlock shakes his head a little. "And you call me a madman." he says with amusement. He has to admit that it's fun, though, just doing things without having to worry about the consequences.

The sky is darkening over John and Sherlock, but the smaller blonde doesn't seem to notice, he has his eyes on a few mud puddles that he just spotted, releasing Sherlock's hand to take a mighty leap and landing in one of them with a big splash that gets the detective as well.

Sherlock manages to shield his eyes from the splash, but then he glowers over at John. "John, was that strictly necessary?" he asks as he shakes out his hands to get the water off of them.

"Hell yes, it bloody well was necessary!" John says with a broad grin. "Come ON, Sherlock! Let go, have a bit of fun!" He pleads as he watches the other boy, jumping up and down to make smaller splashes, giggling a little.

Deciding that maybe it couldn't hurt, especially when John looks like he's having so much fun, Sherlock jumps into the puddle beside him, grinning in a slightly evil way as John gets splashed. About then is when the sky opens up as well and starts to rain down on them, but the two boys are just laughing at this point as they jump in the puddles. At least until Sherlock ups the ante by scooping up a bit of mud and throwing it at John, hitting him square in the chest. "That's for saying I throw like a girl." he says defiantly.

Gasping in surprise as he gets hit with mud, John looks down at his chest, then with a little cry he launches himself at Sherlock, sending them both to the ground, struggling to try and pin Sherlock down, but the detective is bigger than he is at the moment so it's a little harder. Of course, he's laughing when he's doing this, which doesn't help his ability to hold the other down.

Sherlock grins, being able to recognize the difference between a playful John and an angry John, even at this age, so he struggles and finally rolls them over, pinning John down for a moment. They end up rolling back and forth through the mud which just gets worse as the rain continues to come down, until they're both coated, their hair soaked in water and mud, but they're laughing and have been outside for probably about two hours as they roll through the mud.

This is where Mycroft finds them, having a jacket on and umbrella over his head, shocked when he sees the two fighting and rolling around, each trying to get the upper hand. "Sherlock!" he snaps sharply in a scolding tone, frowning disapprovingly. "What do you think you are doing?" He demands once he has the kids' attention.

John looks up from where he has hold of Sherlock's shirt, the taller boy having him pinned at the moment. He can't help but grin, his hair looking more brown than blonde now. "We were playing, Mycroft. That's what normal children do." He says, then he grins up at Sherlock.

Looking up sharply when he hears his name, Sherlock smirks a little at Mycroft. "I've been assured this is normal behavior." He says before he gets up and helps John up, straightening each other's clothes as they grin at each other, then Sherlock looks at Mycroft. "I believe we need to get cleaned up." He says with a broad grin, taking John's hand again to lead the giggling doctor toward the house.

A little shocked at Sherlock's behavior since he's never acted like this before, Mycroft nods a little. "Yes, I think that's a wise decision, before you two get colds. The doctor will be here this afternoon to examine you." He says, watching the two closely. He has to admit that he's glad Sherlock as John, since he's never seen his little brother so happy and relaxed. A part of him wonders if this might have been what Sherlock could have been like if he had a friend growing up.

"Take off your shoes at the door." Mycroft insists, then adds, "Shirts too, stay there until I get you some towels." he says with a small shake of his head, putting his umbrella aside once he gets in, telling Anthea to run a bath for the two before he goes to get some towels.

"He's very.. protective of you. In a different way than normal, I mean. Almost.. like fatherly." John says as he tries to explain it, removing his shoes and socks, wiping some water out of his face with a smirk at Sherlock.

Nodding a little, Sherlock sighs. "Mycroft was always more of a father to me than our own father. He's 10 years older than I am." he explains to John as he removes his shoes and socks as well, then unbuttons his shirt and drops it to the ground.

Considering that for a few moments, John shakes his head. "I can't imagine that, Harry and I are only two years apart, and she couldn't care less about me." he says as he tries to pull the hem of his sweater up and over his head but the weave tightened as it got wet, and he has trouble getting it over his head. "Sherlock! Help!" He finally says as he struggles with the fabric.

Snickering a little and smiling at his friend, Sherlock reaches out and jerks the sweater up and off, dropping it with the rest of the clothes before he helps John out of his soaked t-shirt as well, smiling as he runs hands through his hair to slick it back but also to squeeze water out of it.

With towels in hand, Mycroft steps in then. "Here.. Your bath is ready." he says as he looks at them, putting a towel over each of their shoulders before he ushers them toward the stairs and up to their room. Anthea having already left, and the room warmed by a heater and the heat from the water in the tub.

Without a second though, Sherlock drops the towel and strips down the rest of the way before carefully climbing into the tub, sitting down in the water, then looking over at John expectantly.

"Oh.. er.. I'll just.. wait.." John says slowly, feeling a tiny bit awkward about sharing a bath with Sherlock. It's not that he's uncomfortable with naked bodies or anything, he is a doctor and he was in the army and Sherlock is not exactly shy about wandering about in just a sheet or something.

Sighing a bit at John and his values, Sherlock reaches out and grabs him by the arm, "John, once again you are being an idiot." he says before he pulls John into the bath, clothes and all, water overflowing the tub for a moment, but thankfully there's a drain in the middle of the floor just in case such a thing happened.

Sputtering from the water, John surfaces, and he stares a little at Sherlock, sighing as he pulls off his jeans and pants, tossing them onto the floor. "You are ridiculous, Sherlock." He says as he takes his place at the other side of the tub, shaking his head and scrubbing his hands through his hair for a moment since some of the drying mud was making his scalp itch.

For a few moments Mycroft stares in surprise before he smiles, putting the towels aside before he removes his jacket, tie and vest, rolling his sleeves up. "If you two are quite finished with the antics... Stay still, Sherlock, let me get this mud out of your hair." he says with a shake of his head, picking up a sprayer from the side of the tub, turning the water on to use it to wet down Sherlock's head.

While he may not be happy about it, Sherlock is used to being treated like this, so he doesn't object to Mycroft's words, just glowers a little. "Fine." he says as he pouts, then he smiles a little at John. "You have to help John, too." He finally stays childishly, but stubbornly as he points at the blonde.

"I can wash my own hair!" John objects, squeaking a little, sliding down in the tub a little so that his chin and mouth are both covered by water, but his nose is above so he can breathe just fine.

"I think you'll find that washing your hair in a tub is quite difficult." Mycroft says as he turns the water off, picking up Sherlock's shampoo and arching an eyebrow as he looks at it, then he works it into Sherlock's long locks. "I'm glad to see you've kept the longer hair, Sherlock. Mummy always did love your hair." He says with a fond little smile.

Sherlock snorts a little. "I didn't keep it because of Mummy. I just think it looks better." He says in a slightly pouting tone, though he stays still and allows the wash and the rinse, closing his eyes and mouth tight during the rinse.

John sighs a little, pouting, before he sits up properly. "I can't imagine you with shorter hair, Sherlock. It would look really strange. You do look good with longer hair." he says with a nod of his head, running a hand through his own hair as he considers how it's been getting longer over the last month and that he really should get a haircut.

Blushing a little under the praise, Sherlock endures it as Mycroft puts conditioner in his hair, eyes dropping to the water where he idly moves his hands around in the water, tilting his head forward when Mycroft urges him to.

The elder Holmes brother continues to wash Sherlock's hair, sighing a little. "We will get to the bottom of what happened, Sherlock. But I hope you two will let me care for you to the best of your ability." He says as he looks between the two. "If there is anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask. I want to make you as comfortable as I can." he says as he watches them.

Sherlock just nods a little once his hair is rinsed out. "Very well. I'd like my violin to be brought here." he says quietly as he looks down at the surface of the water.

"I've already sent for it, dear brother, I thought you might be missing it." Mycroft says as he moves over to John, repeating the process with the seemingly younger boy's hair. "It's not a crime to ask for help from people when something like this has happened to you." he says, speaking more to John now than Sherlock. "This is an unfamiliar situation, your older minds caught in your younger bodies. If there are any other changes, please let me know immediately, it may be signs of something more serious." He says as he looks between them, finishing more quickly with John's hair since it's shorter, finally standing and drying his hands and arms off, though his suit is wet and not fit to be worn out anywhere, even with the precautions.

At that comment, John looks up at Sherlock questioningly, a silent conversation going on between the two of them for a moment, before John slides down into the water a little more, relaxing and warming up in the water.

"Thank you, Mycroft." Sherlock says finally after shaking his head at John, looking up at his older brother. "I think we'd both appreciate something warm to drink after our bath. Decaffeinated tea, if Anthea was kind enough to get it. Or I suppose hot chocolate if not. Perhaps some lunch, as well, sandwiches or something I imagine you'll want to feed us." He says, trying to be nice to his brother but it doesn't come out exactly like that.

Nodding a little at the two as he collects his jacket and vest, Mycroft smiles. "Of course. I'll have something brought up for your bath. I'm also having both of your computers brought here." He offers as he looks between them, nodding before he turns and heads out of the bathroom.

Only once he's sure that Mycroft is gone does John look over at Sherlock. "Why didn't we tell him about the scarring?" he asks, looking curious as he reaches out for the wash cloth and soap to clean himself up with.

Considering the answer for a minute or two, Sherlock finally formulates what he thinks is an appropriate response. "Because I don't understand it. I don't want to give him or any doctor's any more reason to be able to poke and prod us more than they already do." He admits as he looks around the rather modern bathroom but with more traditional fixtures.

"Sherlock.. you know, sometimes I think you forget that I am a doctor as well." John admits with amusement, finishing getting cleaned up before he hands the cloth and soap over to the detective, then he leans back more comfortably in the tub.

Taking the soap and wash cloth, Sherlock washes his face and neck up before moving onto his hands and arms and the rest of himself. "I know you're a doctor, John. I never forget. It's different. You're my friend, I trust you with my life. If you needed to do something, I am confident it would be for my own good, and it would be necessary, not for some pointless test or task." he says thoughtfully before he reaches out and flips the drain on the tub. "I'm getting pruney." he says as he washes off the rest of the soap from himself, getting up and climbing out of the tub to rub himself dry with a towel, wrapping it around his waist before he looks back at John to help him out of the tub, since for the smaller boy it will be harder.

"I understand now, Sherlock. It's alright." John says with a small smile as he gets up, hesitating since he doesn't want to slip, he accepts Sherlock's help out of the tub, grabbing onto his arms as he nearly slips on the tile floor, then nods and accepts the towel to dry himself off as well, following Sherlock's example and wrapping it around his waist before walking into the bedroom, pulling open the wardrobe to pull out clothes for himself and quickly dressing before he moves out of the way so Sherlock can get his clothes out and dress as well. He glances at the detective for a moment and he smiles, something in him relaxing as he watches the other man fondly, then he catches the smell in the room, taking a deep breath."Ohhh.. That's brilliant. That smells like tea." He says before he turns and heads over to where Mycroft left the tray of tea and sandwiches.

Sherlock dresses, aware that John is staring at him and unable to stop himself from blushing a little before he fixes his hair in the mirror before he follows John over to the tray. "It seems Anthea followed through for us." He says with a soft smile, pouring tea for both of them, making John's up just the way he likes it before passing the cup over to him and smiling a little.

Taking a slow sip from his cup, John closes his eyes and sighs. "Oh, that's lovely." he says with a nod of his head, picking up a sandwich and starting to eat slowly. "I'd like you to stay with me when the doctor is there as well. I don't want him to say anything to either of us without the other knowing, ok?" he asks as he looks up at the detective.

A firm nod is given from the taller boy as he sips some of his tea, taking a deep breath. "Agreed." He says with another nod of his head, giving a small yawn. "Perhaps we should rest a bit until the doctor gets here. I hate being young, having no control over my body." he says in frustration, frowning a little as he eats a little more, and finishes his cup of tea, before he crawls up onto the bed.

A small nod comes from John as he finishes eating and his tea, moving the tray over to a safer place, very carefully, before he returns to the bed. "It'll be ok, Sherlock. Napping isn't so bad. Not like we have anything else to do." he says as he watches Sherlock, scooting down to lay with Sherlock, wriggling over until he's curled up close to the detective, taking one of the brunette's hands in his. "Is this ok?" he asks as he looks at the other boy.

Giving John's hand a little squeeze, Sherlock nods slowly and then smiles, scooting a little closer so he can put his free arm around John's shoulders before he gets comfortable, closing his eyes and smiling slightly as he relaxes.

"Yes, it's quite alright, John. Sleeping this way is much more comfortable."

* * *

**Whoo! Cuteness. Boys will be boys. :) And a little paternal Mycroft for good measure. He does have a heart! Awww. The doctor will be coming around next. Sherlock really does have a dislike for doctor's visits, and I might have to figure out something for that next chapter. :)**

**Hope you're enjoying this, reviews/comments welcome!**


	5. Chapter 5

When it's getting closer to the time of the doctor's appointment, Lestrade is already at the house, having stopped by earlier than planned, wanting to be there to make sure the two are ok with the doctor since John especially might have problems if he thinks the doctor isn't doing the right thing. So he heads up to the boy's room, smiling a little as he sees them curled up together. He walks over and sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out to ruffle John's hair a little, rubbing his arm slowly. "Come on, guys.. time to wake up." he says as he reaches over and shakes Sherlock's arm a little as well. He can't help but smile as he watches the two sleepily wake up, idly thinking about how adorable they are as kids.

"Lestrade?" Sherlock asks, being able to see him over John's shoulder a he rubs one of his eyes. "What are you doing here?" He asks, yawning before he untangles himself and sits up, nudging John a little to make sure he wakes up.

For a few moments longer, John clings to Sherlock's hand, then he rolls onto his back to look up at Lestrade. "What time is it?" He asks before he, too, sits up, stretching his arms above his head.

"It's about half past one." Lestrade says with a soft smile as he looks at the two. "Come on. Up you get. Time to visit the doctor." he says as he shakes John's leg a little with a small grin.

Grunting a little, John climbs off the bed and then walks to the bathroom, coming out a few minutes later to find Sherlock waiting for him, and ducking in after him. He runs a hand through his blonde hair, then smoothes it down slowly before he looks over at Lestrade. "What are you doing here, don't you have work?" he asks in confusion, glancing at the clock for a moment.

Lestrade nods a little as he watches John, smiling. "Brought you some new shoes, by the way.. since Mycroft said you soaked yours this morning. Not entirely smart, by the way." he says quietly. "I got the afternoon off, said that I had to help out, take some kids to the doctor who I found, in the line of duty." he says with a little smirk as he watches John, ruffling his hair a little. "How are you holding up?" he asks as he looks at the young soldier.

Considering the question, John gets his shoes from Lestrade before he sits down, taking the tags off and changing how the laces are threaded before he starts to put them on. "I'm doing alright. Trying to teach Sherlock what it's like to be a kid. Getting soaked earlier was bloody well worth it, to see Sherlock actually laughing." He says with a big grin, shaking his head for a few moments.

"Language, John." Lestrade says in a firm, scolding tone, frowning briefly. "You could get away with swearing like that an older man, but you won't get away with it as a kid." he says in a firm tone. "I'm surprised you aren't ordering Sherlock to start working on antidote, rather than teaching him what it's like to be a kid." he says as he looks at John curiously.

For a few moments, John watches Lestrade, then he sighs a little and nods quietly. "Yeah. Don't get me wrong, I do want him to work on a way to fix this. But we're not getting any worse. And who knows how long it will take him to even figure out what happened to us. Much less if he can find a way to reverse it. So what's the harm in spending a few days being a kid?" He says as he looks up at the now taller detective, finished with tying his shoes.

Coming out of the bathroom, Sherlock yawns a little as he trudges over to Lestrade and takes his shoes, putting on some socks he snagged along the way. "Too much sleep. I have got to fix that." He says with a little shake of his head, sitting down on the floor to put his socks on and then his shoes, still seeming to almost be half asleep.

Lestrade smiles a little. "Well I'm not going to carry you, so you better wake up a bit more. Come on.. Mycroft is downstairs waiting." he says as he gets up, putting his hand on the back of each of the boy's shoulders, guiding them out the door in front of him and downstairs, grabbing their jackets in turn, being able to tell whose is whose just by the styling, with John's being a shorter, heavier material in black, which Lestrade helps him into, while Sherlock has a knee-length pea coat type style which the detective tries to get into himself.

Seeing him struggling with the unfamiliar coat, John shakes his head and moves over to help him into it, grinning a bit. "You need a scarf." he says as he tugs the two sides of the coat together. "Your neck is too b- er.. too long." He says slowly, trying to curb his swearing because Lestrade is right in that sense, he knows that he needs to get better if he's going to be this young for long. "And gloves." He says with a little snicker. "Then you'll almost look like normal.. just smaller." He says with a big grin for a moment, which slowly fades into a brown. "And still that much taller than I am. Idiot." He grumbles quietly.

"No fighting, boys, we're already running behind." Mycroft says as he joins them with his umbrella, glancing down at them and then crouching down to do up Sherlock's coat, adjusting it back so it will fit right. "There. Now, the car is waiting, let's go." He says before he heads out, the rain having let up to just the faintest drizzle, but it's enough for Mycroft to use his umbrella as he ushers the youngsters into the car.

Sherlock looks a little upset about being babied, but otherwise he says nothing, just climbs into the car to sit by one of the windows, buckling up carefully and making sure that John buckles up the same in the middle seat. Mycroft sits across from them and Lestrade on the far side from the detective. Finally, when everyone is settled the car heads off to the doctor's office.

The office itself is like all other doctor's offices. It's cold, clean, and clinical. John doesn't seem to mind it, but Sherlock clearly seems nervous in that environment so John takes one of the detective's hands in both of his and gives him a smile. They squeeze into one of the somewhat large chairs together with Lestrade beside them as Mycroft goes to the nurse to tell them they are here.

Not long after that is when the nurse comes out to call John in, but they both stand. "We just need John at the moment." She says toward the curly haired boy.

"We will be staying together." Sherlock informs the nurse. "We have agreed that we will see the doctor together, or not at all." he announces, tilting his head up as he waits to be challenged.

Of course, the nurse just smiles in a condescending way, giving Sherlock an odd sort of appraising look before she smiles. "I'm afraid that we can't do that.."S he says slowly as she obviously tries to convince the boys to stay apart. "We're not going to hurt your friend..."

Knowing that look and deciding to intervene, Mycroft slowly gets up. "As one of their guardians, I have no problem them attending the appointment of the other. I can remain in the room as well if it would make the doctor feel better about it, but I really see no reason for it." He says after stepping over to the three. Some of the other parents in the room are looking at them nervously, and some nosier people look on with interest as they try to figure out what's going on.

Reluctantly, the nurse sighs a little. "Very well, but this is highly unusual." She says with a little shake of her head. "There's no need for you to come, sir, unless they want you to." She says as she looks at Mycroft, knowing enough not to argue with the obviously powerful man.

Finally, the two boys are led to an examination room where the nurse goes and gets the second file, doing the preliminary things such as height, weight, blood pressure, etc. When they are left alone again, Sherlock frowns. "I do not like that woman." he decides as he slides off the bed, starting to be nosy and look through cabinets of the room.

"Sherlock, what are you doing? Stop that!" John scolds as he watches Sherlock, pulling him away from the cabinets and putting everything back where it was. "There was something odd about that nurse, but maybe she was just having a bad day or maybe it was just because we're odd and wanted to stay together." he says before he looks at Sherlock seriously. "We need to make sure to not be too smart for our ages." he says as he looks at Sherlock. "Well, maybe you don't have to worry about it. You probably haven't changed." he says with a slight smirk as he looks at the seemingly older boy.

Before much more can be said, the doctor comes in, being an elderly man in his late 40's to early 50's, hi dark brown, almost black hair is mostly salt and pepper at this point. He has a lab coat on, and is a relatively tall man, still relatively fit for his age with glasses and a short-cropped beard that is almost all white. He looks up from his folder at the two boys and gives them a kind smile. "Alright, boys.. you're quite close friends, aren't you? I'm told that you were found by the Detective Inspector out there. Been together for a while, have you?" he asks, sounding amused but gentle.

John shakes his head as he looks over at Sherlock. "Not that long." He says quietly with a little smile, shrugging for a few moments. "He's my best friend." He announces proudly as he looks up at the doctor, reaching over and taking Sherlock's hand as if afraid the two are going to be separated.

Seeming a little amused, the doctor nods a little. "I understand, son. Let's get you two back up on this bed so I can see you a bit better, hm?" he asks as he waits for John to let go of Sherlock, then he grabs John under the arms gently and lifts him up onto the bed, then does the same with Sherlock. "Well, you're a little light for your age." he says as he looks at Sherlock. "So let's start with you." he says with a nod of his head. "Sherlock, that's an unusual name. How are you feeling today, any aches, pains, bruises that I should know about?" he asks as he goes to pull a few instruments. After glancing at the protective posture of John, the doctor smiles. "I'm just going to check his eyes and ears, and then I've been instructed to do a full panel of blood work on both of you so I'll need to draw some blood, alright?" he asks as he looks between the two.

"I'm not afraid of needles." Sherlock says simply as he waits for the doctor to go through his tests, "I've always had excellent hearing and vision." he adds after a moment, holding out his left arm when the doctor goes to get a needle.

The doctor comes back and he smiles. "I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Dr. Martin. But you can call me David if you want." He offers as he ties off a bad around Sherlock's small arm and then he expertly takes two vials of blood. "Alright?" He asks as he looks at Sherlock, having the young man fold his arm around the piece of gauze he presses to the wound. After writing down the correct information on the vials, he turns back to finish the exam.

John watches everything very closely to make sure he's doing everything right, because while he may not be a pediatrician, a physical is a physical whether you're 5 or 50. The only difference is the way the doctor approaches the patient. Still, he seems satisfied with how it goes, and after the doctor is writing down the results of his exam, he looks at Sherlock. "Alright?" he ask says as he looks at the other boy.

A sharp nod is given from Sherlock as he looks at John for a few moments and smiles lightly. "I'm fine, John." He reassures the blonde, squeezing his hand a little before he turns to watch him as closely as he was being watched by John.

Dr. Martin watches them both and he smiles. "You boys are pretty quiet." he says as he looks at them. "I won't bite, I promise." he says with a little chuckle. "It's alright. You don't have to trust me. You boys are used to being on your own, I can tell you're independent. But it's not so bad you know. Relying on someone besides each other. So far you seem to be in good health though." he says as he continues to examine John, taking the blood and doing everything else he needs to. "You are definitely one of my easiest patients today even if you gave my nurse a bit of trouble outside." He teases the two boys, smiling. "It's nice to see boys like you who are so close. Never lose that. Never let anyone come between you boys. That is the worst thing that happens when you get older. Especially never let it be a girl." He teases with a little laugh.

Making an obvious look of distaste, Sherlock watches the doctor. "I can assure you, Dr. Martin, a woman will never be the one to come between John and I." he says with a little shudder, since when he was an adult, he was never one to lean toward the female persuasion.

"Oh, I know, girls are icky, aren't they?" Dr. Martin says with a little smile. "You may not always think that, though. Don't keep secrets from each other, and don't let anyone turn you against each other. You seem like good boys." He says as he pats their knees. "Now, let me just take this away and have it sent off to our lab, and then I will talk to your guardian. Hopefully you two will be home causing mischief before too long." he says before he chuckles, reaching out to ruffle Sherlock's hair, laughing when the boy swats at his hand, before he turns to walk out.

"He isn't so bad." John says as he holds the cause on the spot on his elbow, slowly swinging his legs. "Do you think anything could ever come between us, Sherlock?" he asks, suddenly sounding worried about that since it's not something he ever thought of before now, and now it's the only thing he can think of.

Sherlock nods a little as he considers it. "No, he is not bad as far as doctor's go." he says quietly as he looks around the room, taking in the signs and everything before he looks back at John. Sighing, he scoots over closer to the other boy and takes his hand, tangling their fingers together.

"Don't be an idiot, John. Of course nothing will ever come between us. We'll be together until we're old, wrinkled men forced to retire."

* * *

**Ok.. doctor chapter had to be done. It didn't come out quite like I wanted it to, but I know like nothing about medicine, and doubted it would be very interesting for me to describe everything that goes on in your typical physical. So I glossed over it. Those two will be thick as thieves. They're going to get into so much trouble together. :D**

**Reviewsc/comments welcome!**


	6. Chapter 6

"I can't imagine you ever retiring, Sherlock. You would probably be killed by a murderer first." John says thoughtfully, before he sighs and looks around the sterile room, not liking it and not liking the thought of Sherlock being killed. But they can't leave until the doctor comes in and tells them that they can go.

"I wouldn't die that way, John. You'll be there to protect me from something like that." Sherlock says confidently as he looks around as well, looking over at his tiny doctor with a little smile. "You know, for someone who should be used to an environment such as this, you are strangely ill at ease." he says as he watches the other boy.

"I don't mind doctor's offices when I'm the one in charge. But also, everything is a lot bigger than I'm used to. I admit, I have always been a horrible patient." He says as he looks at Sherlock with a small smile, giving his hand a light squeeze.

The doctor finally comes back in and he smiles as he looks at the boys slowly. "Alright.. it seems your guardian is taking the blood off to a private labs, so you will likely see the results before I do." He says with a little smile as he watches the two. "You seem to be in good health.. John, you're a bit small for your age but I imagine once you hit puberty that will sort itself out.. Sherlock, I am a little concerned that you seem malnourished. You're a bit underweight..." He says worriedly as he looks at the brunette, "So. I want you to do something very difficult for me." He says in a conspiratoral tone, rolling his little stool a little closer and putting one hand on the young boy's knee. "I want you.. to eat junk food, carbs, anything that is high in fat and generally bad for you." he says with a little chuckle. "Need to get a bit more meat on those bones. Otherwise, you both seem perfectly healthy." he says as he move back a little. "Now. Do you two have any questions for me?" He asks curiously.

For a few moments John smirks a little at Sherlock, nodding firmly in agreement about eating and getting meat on his bones. Then he looks at the doctor and thinks about it for a few moments. "How much were you told about our.. situation?" he asks warily as he looks at the doctor.

Dr. Martin smiles a little at John. "I was told of the unusual circumstance of your.. transformation, if that's what you mean." He says with a nod of his head, having treated them like children because that is what is expected, but also because he wasn't told what they might be like mentally. "A blood test is not exactly standard for a physical, afterall." He points out with a slight smirk.

Nodding quietly as he considers everything, John takes a deep breath. "We are normal, aren't we? Healthy, normal children? We don't seem to be getting any younger..." He says slowly as he looks at Sherlock.

A small nod is given from Dr. Martin as he looks between the two. "As far as I can tell, you two are perfectly healthy young men." he says with a little smile as he looks between them, "And I have seen quite a few children in my time, let me tell you." he says with a small chuckle.

Hearing that makes John feel much better and he smiles before he nods. "I don't have any other questions." He says as he glances at Sherlock, "Other than.. can we go now?" he asks hopefully.

Sherlock nods a little in agreement, sliding off the bed. "I am sure if this is not solved soon, we will see you again, Dr. Martin. Thank you for your help and your silence which I have no doubt my older brother arranged." He says as he looks up at the older doctor, holding out his hand to him and shaking it firmly before he turns to John.

Sighing a little, John hops off the bed, landing nimbly on his feet as he looks over at Sherlock, shaking the doctor's hand as well. "Thank you." he says before he takes Sherlock's hand and leads him back out to the waiting area.

Already having talked to Mycroft while he was gone, Dr. Martin follows nonetheless and smiles a little as he looks at the two boys. "Try not to get into too much trouble, you two. I don't want to see you in here with broken bones or the like!" He calls out with a small smile.

Lestrade gets up from his seat, putting aside the magazine he was reading to watch the two boys. "Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" He asks, then adds, "Bet you two would like some fresh air. We'll be outside, Mycroft." he says as he walks over to grab the jackets, helping the boys into them before he leads them outside and into the fresh air. "So, any bad news or is all well?" he asks once they're outside and away from the parent and kids.

Its Sherlock who responds first this time, standing close to John's side which is where he can be found all the time nowadays. "We are perfectly well, Lestrade. I have been informed that I should eat fatty foods which are not good for me, in order to gain weight." he deadpans as he looks up at the older man. "Otherwise, we are two healthy boys." He says before he adds, "If we stay this way for a while, I believe John and I would both prefer going to Dr. Martin. He is competent, and not a complete idiot." Which coming from Sherlock is pretty high praise indeed.

Giggling a little at the image Sherlock makes, all young and cute, trying to still be in control and maintain appearances, John grins a little. "You don't have to be in control all the time, Sherlock." he says quietly as he looks at the brunette for a few moments, then he looks up at Lestrade. "We need to get more clothes." He adds after a moment. "Thank you for the ones you sent, but clearly we need more than three outfits. "He notes with a slight smirk since they're on the second of the three outfits.

"Indeed." Sherlock says as he looks down at his clothes. "I miss my coat." He grumbles with a slightly pouty tone to his voice. "I would prefer having a scarf, as well. My neck is cold." he says as he flips up his collar.

"Oh, not with the bloody collar.." John mutters, rolling his eyes a little before he turns to thump his forehead against the detective's shoulder. "Your cheekbones haven't quite developed enough for you to look as cool when you do that.." he points out as he lifts his head and puts his chin on Sherlock's shoulder before he reaches up and pokes the seemingly older boy's cheeks.

Sherlock sighs a little as he looks over at John. "Believe it or not, I am not doing it to look cool, as you seem to think. I merely get cold." he says with a small huff, glaring up at the highly amused Detective Inspector, just in time for Mycroft to come out.

Looking at the scene before him, Mycroft arches an eyebrow as he looks between the two boys and Lestrade for a few moments. "Am I interrupting something?" He asks with a slight smile as he steps over to the car that pulls up.

Giggling at the pouting detective, John gives him a hug to make him feel better. "It's ok, Sherlock. None of us would love you if you weren't exactly who you are." He says with a nod of his head, not even thinking about what he said, or how implying the three of them love the brunette might affect Sherlock. Finally, he looks up at the older Holmes brother, tilting his chin up a little before he says in a matter-of-fact voice:

"Also, Mycroft. We clearly need more than three sets of clothes, so I suggest we go get some."

* * *

**Sorry for the shorter chapter. I got distracted by my new tablet, and by being tired. Hopefully I will have a better one in the next few days! :D**

**Reviews/comments welcome!**


	7. Chapter 7

When they get into the car, Sherlock remains silent, but he stays close to John's side, taking his hand and squeezing it a little as he thinks over the last five minutes. He turns his head to look at John silently, just watching the little doctor. He wonders if the blonde has any idea of the enormity of what he just said. In his entire life, he can count on one hand the amount of times anyone has ever told him that they loved him, but it never really seemed sincere before, but John seemed sincere. Not wanting Lestrade or Mycroft to know what insecurities he's feeling, he hesitates before he leans over toward John, cupping one hand around his mouth in the way children often do when they whisper to their friends, and keeps adults from reading lips.

"Did you mean what you said?" Sherlock whispers into John's ear, glancing at his little soldier for a few moments, looking a little confused as he frowns slightly.

A little surprised when he sees Sherlock leaning toward him, John looks over at the brunette though the corner of his eyes, listening to the whisper before he looks at Lestrade and Mycroft. He knows that this must be something the detective doesn't want the adults to know about, so he plays along, looking at Sherlock before he leans in with his hand around his mouth to whisper in return. "I meant everything I said, but which part, specifically?"

And this is the part that makes Sherlock feel a little awkward, he shifts as he looks at John for a few moments, squeezing the doctor's hand before he leans over to whisper again. "About.. loving me.. how I am?" He pulls back and looks at John, aware of the curious stares of the 'adults'.

For a few moments, John just stares at Sherlock in shock, jaw dropping a little since he can't believe that the other boy would doubt how anyone would feel about him. Then his expression softens and he smiles a little before he nods a little, leaning in to whisper to Sherlock. "Of course I meant it. You're my best friend. Just as you are." He then pulls back to smile at Sherlock before he releases the other boy's hand to pull him into a tight hug, rubbing his back a little as he holds him.

This definitely makes Lestrade and look surprised and Lestrade's eyebrows go up as he glances at the elder Holmes brother to see if maybe he knows what's going on, but seeing the equally as surprised look on his face, the Detective Inspector merely turns back to watch the boys. As ever, as thick as thieves.

A little surprised, Sherlock blinks a few times and then he puts his arms around John, returning the hug tightly and then hiding his face against John's shoulder, ashamed of his weakness but he can't help it, he clings to John for a few moments, feeling like he wants to cry but besides a small little hitch in his breathing he refuses to let himself cry, finally taking a deep breath and starting to move back from John, looking into the deep blue eyes of the little army doctor for a few moments, and he tilts his head forward to rest their foreheads together for a few moments, letting his eyes close and he relaxes a little before he slowly leans back and nods. "Thank you." he says in a quiet tone, pulling his arms back and then taking John's hand in his, his controlled mask firmly back in place as he glances over at the two 'adults'.

A little surprised, but not minding it, John holds the detective and even goes so far as to stroke a hand over his hair slowly for a moment. He releases Sherlock when he pulls back, resting his hands on the bruentte's shoulders before he nods quietly with a small smile, closing his eyes for a few moments before he breaks it. "You're welcome." he says with a little shrug, not thinking there's any big deal about it. He then turns back toward Lestrade and Mycroft, deciding to be a little mischeivious, he gives them a big, fake, innocent smile.

Looking from the boys to Mycroft, he shakes his head. "I didn't miss this feeling. I have a bad feeling they're plotting against us." he says as he tips his head toward John and Sherlock for a moment. "Used to feel that way when my kids were young, too. I always felt like they had secrets, and most of the time they did." he says as he looks at them suspiciously. "I am hoping you're going to tell me that Sherlock was not a troublemaker when he was little, and that we just have to worry about John."

Having been watching this exchange closely, Mycroft considers the situation. Because of his intelligence and general disdain for humanity, Sherlock never had friends growing up, which was something that truly concerned the elder Holmes brother, but he was away at school and there was little he could do for his brother. He always wondered if that might impede his development, especially as he continued the trend of being decidedly anti social and continued not to have any friends into his adult life. Until he met John Watson of course, then things began to change, and it was all for the better. But now they're children again and Mycroft gets to see a little of what Sherlock could have been like if even one person was his friend, if one person had looked at him not as freak, but as a lonely little boy who was too smart for his own good. If just one person had bothered to look a little deeper like John did, so many things could have been different.

Finally, Mycroft nods quietly to Lestrade. "Unfortunately I wish I could tell you that, Inspector. But Sherlock was quite mischeivious as a child. He went through a phase in which he was very interested in engineering, and created very elaborate traps. Mummy was not pleased." He says before he adds, "And of course, there was the time in his life where he just wanted to be a pirate." He says as he arches an eyebrow at Sherlock. "He was actually created a working cannon." he says as he looks at Lestrade, before he looks back at Sherlock and John. "I believe we may be in a little bit of trouble." he says in a surprisingly calm tone as he looks from one young boy to the other.

John glances over at Sherlock for a few moments after listening to that bit of information that Mycroft reveals, and he shakes his head. "A working cannon. Why am I not surprised?" he asks curiously, then he shakes his head, and looks out the window for a few moments, before he turns and cups his hand around his mouth as he leans in to whisper to Sherlock for a few moments. "You are a bloody idiot. You're lucky you survived to adulthood. And yeah, just whispering to mess with Lestrade and Mycroft." He whispers before he pulls back and grins a little at the other boy.

Arching an eyebrow as he looks at John, Sherlock considers that for a few moments, shaking his head at the sheer foolishness of what John is doing. Still, the idea of messing with Mycroft is an appealing idea, so he nods a little before he leans in to whisper back to John. "I was always very careful. I had safety precautions. You are far more devious than I gave you credit for previously." For a moment, he stops, pulling back to look at John, tilting his head curious before he leans forward to continue his train of thought, whispering to John as he glances over at Mycroft and Lestrade. "I wonder if you were always like this, or if being younger has brought this out in you."

Giggling a little both because the whispering tickles a little and because of what Sherlock says, John shrugs a little as he looks over at Sherlock, giving his hand a little squeeze before he glances at Mycroft and Lestrade, then looks back at his friend. "There's something freeing about having the mind of an adult, while being perceived as a child. I think I was always a little devious, but it waned as I got older." He whispers, agreeing with a small nod of his head, then the car pulls to a stop outside a department store, and John moves away from Sherlock a little so he can peek out the window, nodding a little. "I think Sherlock and I are capable enough to choose our own clothes." He announces before he pushes the door open and half-drags Sherlock out without letting go of his hand.

Following John quickly, even though he has little choice in the matter, Sherlock smiles softly, even laughing a little as he follows John through the sliding doors of the shop. "We have to wait for Mycroft at least, John. He will be the one paying." he points out but he walks quickly after the young blonde as they wind their way through the racks and toward where the children's clothes are, with John having snagged a basket from somewhere.

"They can find us. It's not as if we'll be hard to find in the children's section." John points out as he looks over at Sherlock for a few moments, before he considers. "Bottom up." he decides, dragging Sherlock over to quickly toss some of the basics in the basket, socks and underwear, then he drags him back over toward the actual clothing. "You need to wear something other than children's suits." He decides as he looks at Sherlock. "Time to get you some jeans and t-shirts." He decides with a little smile as he heads toward that area, both for himself and for the detective.

A little bit amused at John's sudden passion for shopping, Sherlock follows his doctor around, before he nods quietly. "Believe it or not, I did wear t-shirts and jeans when I was a child. I never had a fondness for jumpers, though." he notes as he plucks at John's jumper for a moment, then he starts looking through the pile of jeans to find what he thinks his size will be. It's not like he ever checked it when he was younger, so he's not exactly sure, so he grabs a pair and holds it up to his hips to check the length and general sizing before tossing a few pairs into the basket.

"I wonder if Mycroft has any picture of you when you were younger.. the first time." John says as he looks over at Sherlock with a little smile. "I'd like to see that." He says with a small snicker, grabbing the right sizes for himself as well, some slacks but mostly a few different kinds of jeans, considering things for a few moments before he shakes his head a little. "You know.. this may not have been planned, and it's really annoying in some aspects, but in others... It's interesting. And almost kind of nice, in a way. To just.. go back to being a kid for a little while.." he says quietly as he looks over at Sherlock.

Considering his friend for a few moments, Sherlock nods a little. "I am not as bored as I thought I would be. But I miss the Work. I miss doing cases with you, John. Maybe Lestrade can get me a few cold cases to work on." he says in a slightly hopeful tone, before he sighs, finally crossing his arms over his chest. "Surely there is a quicker way of doing this, couldn't we order it? I don't like shopping." He states in a slightly pouting tone, looking around at everything sullenly, getting a slight case of sensory overload with all the choices and styles adn everything.

Shaking his head a little since he was kind of expecting this behavior from Sherlock, John just smiles a little. "Alright, well, if you don't like what I buy for you, then you can't complain. Since you're not going to participate." he says with an impish grin as he looks at Sherlock for a moment, going up on his toes to pull down a pink shirt off the nearest rack, holding it up to Sherlock and tilting his head as if appraising it and seeing if it's worthy of being purchased. Only when he starts to put it in the cart does he find it snatched out of his hands and firmly placed back on the rack by an unhappy detective.

"No, thank you." Sherlock finally decides as he looks at John warily as if the seemingly younger man, before he sighs a little as he realizes he's been tricked into shopping. Not only that, but he is fairly certain that John will follow through on his threat to make Sherlock wear something truly hideous if he doesn't choose his own clothes.

About then is when Lestrade finds the two, and he's not looking too happy about being ditched at the car, shaking his head as he watches the two children.

"You two better be bloody happy I am used to kids. You don't just run off like that, I don't care how old your brains are. Not saying you have to hold my hand, just stay within sight."

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**Ok... sorry about that, uploaded the wrong chapter! This is better, I hope. :) I have a feeling that these two are going to be troublemakers for Lestrade. Hope you all enjoy!**

**Reviews/comments welcome!**


	8. Chapter 8

Looking up at Lestrade curiously, John blinks innocently at him. "Sorry, Greg. I forget, sometimes, that we're small, now." he says simply, then he looks at Sherlock. "We should go try these on to make sure that they fit so we won't have to drag someone back if they don't fit." he says before he moves the basket to in front of Lestrade's feet. "Watch these for us." He says before he grabs some of the shirts and pants they both chose out of the basket before he takes Sherlock's hand and starts walking toward one of the changing rooms, closing the curtain behind them.

"Is this necessary, John?" Sherlock asks, sighing a little as he looks at the clothes. Luckily the room is plenty big enough for them to maneuver because of their sizes, but it still seems unnecessary to him for them to be in there.

"Probably not, but I'm considering playing a prank on Lestrade and messing with him a little." John says with a little snicker. "And I figured trying on the clothes gives us a good opportunity to plot." He offers with a little grin as he watches his friend.

For a few moments Sherlock merely watches John before he shakes his head. "I am worried about how this being a child might be affecting your mind." he says skeptically, and not for the first time having that thought.

Rolling his eyes a little, John pulls his shirt off to try on one of the ones he picked off the shelf, having no idea what his sizes were at this age previously. Luckily it seems as if he was a good eye because the one he tries on fits, so he switches it back out for the one he came into the store with. "I told you, Sherlock. Embrace your inner child." he says with a little grin. "I know you have one, with all the pouting and the sulking that you do." he says as he pokes Sherlock in the chest, then in the stomach, and the side.

"Stop that." Sherlock says stiffly in annoyance as he swats at John's hands. He gets a little more annoyed when John continues to poke him, and he continues to swat at John's hands, before he finally shoves John backwards. "STOP!" He yells in a higher pitched tone, looking a little shaken, his body trembling either from anger or emotion it's hard to tell.

Even though his intention was just to pull out the playful side of Sherlock, John recognizes he might have pushed it too far, and he stares as his back hits against the wall a little painfully. "Sherlock.." he says quietly as he looks at the taller boy, seeing the tears starting to form in his eyes. "Oh, bloody hell.. I'm sorry.." he says as he moves forward, arms outstretched, this time he pulls Sherlock down into a tight hug. "I'm sorry. My mates and I always used to roughhouse and wrestle. I didn't stop and think how you might perceive it." He says as he holds Sherlock, putting one hand on the back of his head, the other around his body and rubbing his back a little.

Tentative at first, Sherlock finally wraps his arm around John, fingers grasping at the fabric of his shirt as he hides his face against John's shoulder, sniffling a bit with a small shudder of his shoulders as he tries to contain himself. "I.. I was bullied a lot, in school. Up until high school, I wasn't physically able to defend myself." He admits in a slightly muffled tone. "I'm sorry. I know you didn't mean it maliciously, it just brought up some bad memories.." he says quietly in a slightly trembling voice, sniffling a bit again before he takes a deep breath and tightens his hold on the younger boy for a few moments, before he releases him and starts to step back.

Even though it's a little awkward with Sherlock being taller like he is, John strokes one hand over his hair gently while the other arm just holds him in place, nodding a little afterwards. "I understand, Sherlock. I'm sorry." He says quietly, looking into the slightly reddened eyes of the younger man with a small smile, lifting his smaller hand to brush a single tear away from Sherlock's cheek. "Maybe we should think about pranking Lestrade tomorrow. Do you think we could get away from Mycroft? Maybe explore the city a bit? I'd like to get my gun from Baker Street. I know it might be a bit too heavy for me right now, but it would make me feel better having it nearby." He says quietly as he watches Sherlock.

"Yes. Perhaps it would be best to wait. We should make sure these fit or Lestrade might be unhappy. I'm surprised he didn't come rushing in here when I yelled." Sherlock admits with a little smirk as he looks at John, trying on a shirt and then working on the jeans. "Then again, he did admit to having children, he's probably used to normal childish behavior which includes yelling and shrieking." he says with a smirk over at John.

With a firm nod, John goes about trying on his jeans as well, and when they're all done, he leads Sherlock back out to where Lestrade is, right where they left him. Mycroft seems to have disappeared, but neither John or Sherlock seem to mind at all.

"All set, boys?" Lestrade asks with a little smile at the two, patting John's shoulder and ruffling Sherlock's hair a little with a slight grin. "You need anything else?" he asks curiously as he looks between them.

Swatting away Lestrade's hand, Sherlock glares a little. "We need a few more things." he says simply before he grabs John's hand and leads him through the racks of clothes, looking around for a few moments until he finds the right one and he grins a little as he finds the rack of jumpers and one of hooded sweatshirts, turning John to face the rack of jumpers. "You still get cold, I've seen it. You need a few of these. I always thought they were rather hideous, until I realized that despite the high muscle to fat ratio that you have, you spent too much time getting acclimated to warmer climates to be fully comfortable in cooler London weather." He states simply.

A woman shopping - presumably - for her child nearby, looks over at the two and she smiles. "Where's your parents?" She asks as she moves toward them. "You guys need some help picking out clothes?" She asks in a condescending tone that people often use toward children who they think won't understand any words bigger than a syllable.

"Our guardian is over there attending to other clothes." Sherlock says simply as he points toward where Lestrade is. When he opens his mouth to say something else, though, John clamps his hand over it.

Giving Sherlock a look, John smiles sweetly at the woman. "We don't need any help, miss, but thank you. We're just picking up a few more things." He says innocently with a nod of his head, grabbing Sherlock's hand in what might be interpreted as a nervous gesture.

The woman considers the situation for a moment, then she looks carefully at the boys. "Are you sure? I could help you pick something out.. You have the most beautiful eyes, honey.." She says as she looks at Sherlock.

"Everything alright here, boys?" Lestrade asks as he comes over, having seen the attention the woman was starting to give the two boys. He's carrying the basket with the clothes in it, putting the basket down between the two boys, before he puts one hand on Sherlock's shoulder.

Looking at the woman warily, Sherlock leans back from her, then he looks up at Lestrade. "This woman was offering her help with picking out jumpers and sweatshirts." He says as he motions from one rack to the other.

Releasing Sherlock's hand so he can move to the other side of the Inspector, John reaches up and takes Lestrade's hand in his smaller one, giving it a little squeeze as he looks up at him, then he nods. "We said we were ok, and said you were just back there, but she was saying that 'Lock had pretty eyes." He says in a more childish manner, ignoring the incredulous look he gets from the detective at the nickname.

The woman smiles flirtily at Lestrade. "Are these your boys? They're so good looking." She says with another little smile. "I was worried that someone might have left them here, I'm glad to see they're not alone." She says with a relieved tone.

Lestrade isn't really buying it though as he looks at her. "Right. Well, thanks for the thought but as you can see they're fine, and we really have to hurry. We have a friend waiting for us." He says with a smile. "Boys, why don't you pick out a few things, hm?" He says as he looks between them. "Why don't you two stick together? I'm sure between the two of you, you can keep each other from going too crazy." he says with a little smile.

Nodding a little, John releases Lestrade's hand and moves over to Sherlock, grabbing his hand and pulling him around to the opposite side of the rack from the woman to help him get a sweatshirt or two.

Appearing as if out of nowhere, Mycroft comes up behind Lestrade, and puts a hand lightly on his shoulder. "Everything alright here?" he asks as he looks at the Inspector, then over at the strange woman, keeping his hand on Lestrade's shoulder, almost possessively.

Looking between the two men for a few moments, the woman smiles. "I was just saying what cute boys you have there.." She says before she glances around and shifts. "Well. I'm sorry to have disturbed you.. have a good day." She says with a little wave before she heads off.

Arching an eyebrow, Greg looks over at Mycroft. "Just getting some jumpers and such and then we'll be finished." He says before he adds, "The woman was paying a little too much attention to Sherlock." he explains, shaking his head a little. "I figured John would attract more attention, being smaller, and, well.. more cuddly." he says with a little chuckle.

Mycroft slowly lets his hand slide off Lestrade's shoulder, looking at the slightly shorter man before he nods quietly. "I see. It seems that I chose a good time to come in, then." He says before he rounds the racks, and slowly crouches down near the two boys. "Are you alright?" he asks in a gentle tone as he looks at them.

"She didn't even touch us, much less harm us. We're perfectly alright." Sherlock says in his stiff tone as he takes a sweatshirt off the rack and holds it up to look at it, considering it for a few moments so he can avoid looking at his brother.

Nodding a little as he looks at Sherlock for a few moments, John then looks back at Mycroft. "We're fine." he says quietly, though he is a little concerned for the detective. "I think we'd like to go home after this, get something to eat and then maybe watch some tellie before bed." He says simply with a little shrug.

Looking between the two for a few minutes, Mycroft just nods, putting his hand on Sherlock's shoulder gently, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Of course." He says with a nod of his head, before he stands up, putting his hand on John's head and mussing his short blonde hair with a small smile. "Hurry up, then. I'll make sure you boys have something hot to eat by the time we get home." he offers, "I'll leave you in Inspector Lestrade's capable hands. I'll be waiting outside for you." he offers with a little smile, before he goes over to the detective, explaining the same thing about him being outside waiting for them, standing a touch too close perhaps, but it doesn't seem as if Greg minds.

When all is said and done, they have enough clothing and are heading out of the department store, Mycroft having been the one who paid for everything of course. When they reach the sidewalk, Mycroft is there waiting, having shed his jacket sometime, leaving him in his waistcoat and shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. "Shall we?" he asks as he opens the back door to the car for them.

Considering the boys for a few moments, Lestrade smirks. "You know what, why don't we make a stop on the way home? It's been a long day, and Sherlock didn't make one single person angry, so I think that deserves a reward, how about some ice cream?" He asks as he looks at them. The responses are pretty much what he expects, Mycroft looks skeptically disdainful, John actually perks up and looks hopeful, while Sherlock tries to look disinterested when in reality all of his attention just turned to Lestrade.

"Right, then. Ice cream it is."

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**A bit more paternal Lestrade and Mycroft because you all seem to like it so much. :) And it's really adorable. I really need to get them working on some sort of antidote, but I can't help myself. Having them be kids for a while is just so darn fun. Plus, they do need to get the results from that blood work back, lol.**

**Reviews/comments welcome!**


	9. Chapter 9

They end up getting ice cream in a little place that Lestrade knows about, which really does have excellent ice cream. Even Mycroft gets some, though the only person not surprised about that is Sherlock, it seems. After the ice cream they do head back home, getting dinner and then the boys go upstairs to unpack their bags and change for bed.

When they're ready for bed, Lestrade comes up and leans against the door frame to their room. "Well, I'm off for the night, thought I'd come up and say goodnight." he says as he walks over to where the two are sitting on the couch. Well. John is sitting, Sherlock is sprawled out with his legs over John's lap, taking up the entire couch. Apparently he just likes couches.

Looking up from where he's sitting, John nods a little. "Goodnight, Greg." he says as he watches the older man. "Thanks for coming by today.." He says before he covers his mouth quickly as he gives a large yawn.

Opening his eyes from where he was laying back trying to enter his Mind Palace, Sherlock reaches up and grasps Lestrade's hand, giving it a little squeeze. "Yes, thank you. And thank you for the ice cream." He says quietly with a small nod, having always looked to Lestrade as more of a father figure anyway, since the Inspector would always check up on him after he had kicked his drug habit and such. So he's really had two father figures in his life and neither were his actual father.

Lestrade gives the smaller hand around his a small squeeze, then he nods. "You're welcome, Sherlock." he says as he looks at the young boy, before he reaches over to ruffle John's hair. "You two be good, I'll try and swing by tomorrow with some cold cases for you, Sherlock, and to check up on you." he says before he grins a bit. "Goodnight." he says with a small wave before heading out, having narrowly avoided kissing their foreheads goodnight like he might have his own children. He doesn't think that would go over well with either of them, since they aren't really children. Or at least that's what he keeps having to remind himself.

Once Lestrade is gone, John looks over at Sherlock. "That was nice." he says a he looks at the taller boy. And while he's annoyed to have legs in his lap, it's less annoying than having to sit on the floor because Sherlock took up the whole bloody couch.

"I am capable of kindness, John." Sherlock says dismissively, shifting a little to get more comfortable for a few moments. "It.. wasn't so bad, spending time with Mycroft and Lestrade today. Tomorrow, I should see if I can work on at least getting the same chemicals I was using during the experiment that caused this." He says quietly, glancing at John for a few moments. For some reason he's feeling uncertain about this proposal, it's only been a few days and there's a part of him that is enjoying being a kid and just spending time with his friend, something he could never really do before.

"I know you are, Sherlock. But you've always.. just had a certain disdain toward Lestrade before." John reassures as he pats Sherlock's leg then looks back at the tellie for a few moments. "If that's what you want to do, but it's not like we're being injured like this, and I'm sure Mycroft has his men working on it as well." He says as he watches Sherlock. "I'm sure you just want to play with your chemistry set." he teases with a little smirk.

Nodding a little as he considers it, Sherlock glances up at John. "Perhaps." he says quietly with a small shake of his head, before he closes his eyes and tries to go back to his mind palace. He's not sure how much time goes by while he's reorganizing his mind palace and putting it back into some sort of order, before he opens his eyes to John shaking his legs a little. "What is it, John?" he asks, a little irritably.

John sighs and rolls his eyes for a moment. "You looked like you were about to fall asleep, and I need to get up." he says simply, waiting for Sherlock to move his legs before he gets up and stretches, heading toward the bathroom.

A soft knock comes at the door before it opens, Mycroft in just his trousers and his dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, steps into the room. "I think it's time for you two to go to bed. It's late." He says in a firm tone as he looks around. "Where's John?" he asks as he looks at Sherlock.

"Loo." Sherlock says automatically before he gets up, sighing a little. "You do realize that I am not actually a child, Mycroft. I do not need a bedtime." He says, but he turns off the TV and trudge toward the bed anyway to pull down the covers on either side so John can get in as well, before he climbs up into it.

Coming out of the bathroom and stretching a little, John glances at Mycroft. "Bedtime?" He asks before he nods a little, covering a yawn with his hand as he walks toward the bed, seemingly half asleep already as he hops a little to get up into the bed. "This is a bloody ridiculous bed to have." he grumbles, since it's higher than normal off the ground and a thick mattress to begin with, which makes it hard for him to get up in, with his shorter stature.

Stepping over, Mycroft helps John up into the bed, "Well, it was designed for adults." He points out, holding the covers up and waiting for them to get comfortable before he tucks John in first, already being on that side of the bed. "Goodnight, John." He says with unusual fondness in his tone, hesitating before he brushes some of John's hair back from his face, then he walks around the bed and looks at Sherlock, tucking him in. It's clear that John is already asleep and snoring softly in a somewhat adorable way. "Well, that didn't take long. I'm afraid you wore him out, Sherlock." he says with a little chuckle as he watches the younger boy.

Sherlock settles down comfortably, not surprised at Mycroft's suddenly paternal attitude, since it's not like this is the first time he's experienced it. "Yes, John always has had a rather set bedtime and wake up time, when I don't keep him out all night on a case." He says quietly as he looks over at his friend, reaching out to brush some hair back and trail his fingers over the boy's cheek before he pulls his hand back, turning his head to look up at Mycroft. "You have people working on an antidote, I assume?" He asks slowly, not sure how to broach the subject.

Sensing that this might be more than a casual question, Mycroft sits down at the edge of the bed and he nods. "Yes. Your blood samples will be sent to them for testing. Some of course will be tested to make sure that you and John are both healthy." He says, resting his hand on Sherlock's arm gently, giving it a soft, reassuring squeeze. "I will do my best to sort this out, Sherlock." He says seriously.

A small nod is given from the detective, eyes drooping a little as he starts to feel sleepy. "John says we should enjoy our youth right now, in case we're stuck this way. I suggested earlier that I might try and get the things together tomorrow that I was using right before the accident.. but John seemed almost reluctant. I don't know if I should or not, now." He says with a little frown.

"I think that John is right. You never really had a childhood, Sherlock. Not a normal one. You didn't have friends, you didn't do things a normal kid would do because you had such a thirst for knowledge and you were more intelligent than your friends. Perhaps this is a second chance for you. I know my people probably will not come up with something as quickly as you might, but surely it wouldn't hurt to spend a few days, or weeks, being a normal child." He says quietly as he watches his brother, smiling softly, reaching out to gently brush Sherlock's hair back from his forehead. "You need a haircut." He says softly as he considers it. "Why don't you let the people I have working on it, have first crack at it. The list of chemicals you were working with would be appreciated, though." he says quietly. "Then, if they run into a problem, you can assist." he offers quietly.

Nodding slowly, Sherlock takes a deep breath before he watches his brother, who has always been more like a father figure to him anyway. "It.. has been nice. I suppose everyone important already knows of our transformation, but what about the Work?" he asks, not liking the idea that he won't be able to continue being a consulting detective, something he spent most of his adult life working toward.

"You can still do things that don't require you to be at the scene. Even Lestrade can bring things over for you to work on. We'll figure something out, Sherlock. For now, you need to get some rest." Mycroft insists with a small smile, tugging the blankets up a little around Sherlock, watching as his brother's eyes start to close, and he slowly leans down and kisses the side of his head. "Goodnight, Sherlock." he says quietly as he watches him.

It's true that he is very tired, so Sherlock goes without a fight, snuggling down into the blankets and turning on his side so he's facing John in what has become their customary sleeping position. "Goodnight, Dad.." he mumbles in a half asleep state, his mind obviously not engaged all the way, and a moment later he's out.

A little shocked at that, Mycroft carefully stands up from the bed as he looks at Sherlock for a few moments. He sighs and then turns out the lights as he heads to the door, hesitating to look at the two boys before he closes the door and goes to his own bedroom, thinking about how his life has changed in the last few days and how easily he's adapted to having two rambunctious boys in the house. And while he knows that mentally they are 35 and nearly 40 years of age, their physical appearance and the way they seem to act as much like children as they do adults - which he supposes is not unusual, they never acted their age when they WERE adults - makes him think of them more as children.

When he gets into his bedroom, he pauses to look at the mirror above his dresser, briefly going over everything that has happened in the last few days and the final words that Sherlock spoke to him.

"Well, that was rather unexpected."

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**AwwwWWWW! I couldn't resist, and I would like to thank mrscakeakajane for the request/inspiration for the last bit. Sorry, I just couldn't see a 12 year old Sherlock using 'daddy', so I hope this is close enough! I am dying of adorableness for this story. :D Hope you're all enjoying it!**

**Reviews/comments welcome!**


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning follows what has become routine, with the two boys getting up, showering, and getting cleaned up, though Sherlock shows less of a respect for John's privacy as he comes in to brush his teeth and such while the little doctor is still in the shower, before they head downstairs for breakfast.

"Maybe we could see the grounds a bit more properly today. Without the mud fight." John offers after breakfast as he looks over at his companion with a grin.

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Sherlock takes a deep breath. "I need to make a list of the chemicals I was using during my experiment, for Mycroft. And I need to make a blog entry today to indicate I will not be available in London for some time. You should do the same." he says as he looks at his friend with a small nod of his head.

Clearly disappointed in the fact that Sherlock wants to do things like that, 'grownup' things rather than embracing his childhood, John nods a little. "Alright. Well. I'm going to go for a walk in the garden this morning anyway." he says before he shrugs a little and gets up from the table, bringing his plates to deposit them in the sink, too short to reach in properly to wash them. "So I guess I'll just see you later." he says tentatively, not sure why this feels so odd. It's not as if they haven't been apart for hours or days at a time when they were adults. But since this happened they haven't been separated, they did everything together, so now that they have to be apart, it gives John a little bit of anxiety. He tries to hide it of course, knowing that it won't do either of them any good, and if they are to function normally - regardless of if they're children or not - they need to be able to be independent.

Not seeming to like that idea any more than John does, Sherlock hesitates before he nods slowly. "If that's what you want to do." he decides with another small nod, following John's lead and bringing his plates to the sink with a small nod to Anthea, who was once again their cook for the morning. Finally, he turns to John and says, "I will see you at lunch." he decides with a tentative smile as he looks at the soldier in front of him.

"Alright.. I'll see you then, Sherlock." John says as he turns and goes to find his sneakers, then lets himself out the back door after throwing on a jacket, not thinking about rain right at the moment, since the skies are clear of rain clouds, even if everything is a little cloudy. He quickly discovers that the grounds are quite beautiful and even if some of the flowers and such aren't in bloom, the greenery still makes him smile as he walks through it calmly, heading toward the lake to see if there are any fish in it, and after walking around the perimeter he starts to move toward the woods that seem to edge the property. Surprisingly, once he passes the first layer of brush and trees, it opens up under the canopy, with a few ferns, dead branches and the like, but not really any dense underbrush. It surprises John a little but pleases him as well, as the childlike part of him considers how easily he could make a fort, with defenses and if he was really clever, he could make a moat that is fed from the lake, but he's sure that Mycroft might get upset with that.

Still, he likes the idea of a fort and starts scouting for an appropriate place to build one, finally finding a clearing not too far from the edge of the trees which has some dense underbrush in it. And if he is correct they're just simple bushes, the type that usually decorates yards. No doubt some seeds got back there and grew in the sunshine provided by the clearing. With a grin of anticipation, he's about to exclaim how perfect it is, when he remembers that Sherlock isn't there with him. And while that dampens his enthusiasm some, he continues to work on an entrance and hollowing out the middle of the bushes in order to create a private place that even Sherlock might appreciate.

While John is wandering the forest, Sherlock heads into the study, hopping up on Mycroft's desk chair and pulling out some paper and a pen, ending up having to kneel on the chair to get proper height. Trying to focus on what's before him, he works on writing a detailed list of the chemicals that were on the table, including a sample of the gas that they were exposed to at Baskerville. Then he starts to thoroughly describe what happened, what part of his experiment he was doing and what other events led up to the little explosion, along with what else was on the table at the time. Still, after an hour of working on it, he finds his mind drifting, as much as he tries to focus it, and he turns in his chair slightly to stare out of the back window onto the back yard, not able to see John. That worries him a little, but on the other hand, he knows that the blonde can take care of himself so tries not to worry too much.

"You could go out and play, Sherlock. You could use the fresh air and sun. Surely John must be missing your company." Mycroft says softly as he enters the room and sees his little brother in his chair, having actually come in to do some work.

Jumping a little since he was startled, Sherlock looks over at Mycroft for a few moments. "Being a child does not negate my responsibilities." he says in a flat tone, tapping the paper in front of him, his writing at least not changed. Though he imagines his typing might be. "Where is my violin?" he finally demands.

Smiling a little and not taking offense at the change in tones, Mycroft walks over to watch his little brother. "The music room, of course. I thought it best to leave it there so you would not wake John in the middle of the night while using it. Or anyone else for that matter."

Giving his brother another slightly displeased look, Sherlock holds the papers out toward him. "This is all I can remember about the accident, surely John will give you a slightly different account." he says before he shrugs a little, hopping off the desk chair and heading out of the room before Mycroft can say anything else, going down to retrieve his violin.

As he carries it back to his room, he worries about his ability to play it, but since he has been playing since he was very young he doesn't think that will be a problem. Nevertheless, he takes great care to make sure that it's tuned correctly and it is prepared before he starts to play, something simple at first, the tune almost mournful as he closes his eyes and loses himself to the music. In all honesty, he feels a little lonely here by himself but he's not about to admit that. At least not to anyone that isn't John. They've done everything together up until this point and he sees no reason that it might not continue to be the same in the future, but in the same token he doesn't want to give up his independence, and he feels that if he spends too much time alone with John he might become dependent on the doctor.

As the music continues, Sherlock has to wonder as he tries to work through things, would it be so bad to rely on someone like John? To put his faith even more in the doctor? And the more he thinks about it, the answer seems rather simple:

No. It wouldn't be so bad at all.

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**Soooooo sorry for the delay! I kept getting distracted when I tried to write this. And I still ended up with an unusually short chapter. Sorry. :( There will be more exciting things next chapter. I hope. Thank you all for reading! Enjoy!**

**Reviews/Comments welcome!**


	11. Chapter 11

After John finishes quite a bit of stuff on his little makeshift fort, he heads inside, taking his shoes off just inside the door like a good boy before he grabs himself a bottle of water from the kitchen and heads upstairs to try and find Sherlock. He smiles a little when he hears the sound of Sherlock playing the violin, not realizing that he's actually missed that sound. He follows it to the room they're sharing and smiles a little. "Seems like you haven't lost your ability to play, but then again, you're still ridiculously tall, aren't you?"

A little surprised because he was almost in a sort of trance while he was playing, Sherlock stops and turns to look at John. "Mycroft retrieved it from Baker Street." he says as he looks at the violin for a few moments, before he smiles a little as he puts it back in the violin case. "I was seven when it was ten actually, when it was given to me." he says quietly.

"Really? You've had it that long?" John asks in surprise as he watches Sherlock. "I would have thought anything worth that much would have been.. well, it might have possibly been sold during your drug days." he says as he hops up onto the bed and sits there to watch Sherlock.

Sherlock tilts his head as he runs his fingers over the wood of the violin where it sits in its case. "This is the only thing that.. survived." He says quietly with a nod of his head. "I couldn't bear to part with it." He slowly shuts the case and snaps it shut. "Mycroft gave it to me. We were both taught some form of music, but it was only the violin that I took to. The only thing that could truly distract me." He says as he stares out of the window and thinks about those days, when he was just two years younger than he appears to be right now. "Mummy had already sent me to specialists, doctors. To find out why I was the way I am.. They did an IQ test, behavioral tests, even genetic testing, even though such things were no more accurate than throwing a dart at a board." he says with a sigh as he stares out the window. "Mycroft thought that if I learned to play the violin, maybe that would channel some of my energy, allow me to connect to those around me." he says as he looks around for a few moments.

Listening silently, John watches Sherlock for a few moments, taking a deep breath as he listens to the story. "Sounds like you had a very lonely childhood. Mycroft doesn't seem so bad, anymore.. I mean.. since we've been here he hasn't been bad. And he seems like he was rather caring when you were younger, from what you've told me." And this confuses him since the Mycroft that they've dealt with before now has been very different, much more of an arrogant git. Now he actually seems like a caring big brother and John wonders if it's easier for the older man to deal with them as children. It confuses him a little.

"Yes. It seems as much as we have reverted physically it has made Mycroft revert mentally." Sherlock says as he continues to stare out the window, before he slowly turns and walks over to hop up on the bed beside John, just sitting there beside his friend. "It's strange. This is the closest I've been to my brother for over a decade." He says as he stares at the floor, swinging his legs a little and letting his heels hit against the bed when they come back. "He gave me that violin. No matter how much I hated my brother, I never got rid of that violin." he says quietly as he looks around the room slowly, his sharp eyes taking everything in, focusing on the little details.

John considers, nodding a little and scratching the back of his head for a moment. "Yeah. Maybe this is a good chance for you and Mycroft to.. I dunno. Reconnect or something." he offers, rocking sideways to knock his shoulder into Sherlock's before he smiles a little. "Wouldn't hurt to maybe let him back into your life. We might be stuck this way for a while, afterall. Might not be a bad thing." He says as he turns his head to watch the detective's profile for a few moments.

Nodding a little, Sherlock takes a deep breath. "Perhaps. What about you and Harry? She doesn't know about this yet and if we are stuck this way it will be difficult to maintain our adult personas. I have no doubt that it would be more difficult for you to reconnect with Harriet. You should probably make a post on your blog, I made a post on mine earlier. Of course you have a different manner of writing than I do." he says with a fluttering wave of his hand in the vague direction of a laptop, John's laptop, which is now sitting on the desk over by the window.

"I hadn't thought about it. We barely ever talk anyway. It will be some time before I have to think about it." John says before he ohs. "He got my laptop." he says as he hops off the bed and walks over to retrieve it. Since it seems to be on its charger, he unplugs it and moves toward the bed again, crawling up onto it to start up the laptop. "Do you really think we'll be stuck like this, Sherlock?" He asks tentatively as he looks at the brunette and logs into his laptop to load up his blog, not even questioning how the wireless is set up already, he has a feeling a certain someone might have hacked his laptop. For the moment he decides not to comment on it.

Sherlock shakes his head as he looks over at John. "No, I don't think we will, John. Not permanently. A few months, perhaps even a year. But not permanently." He reassures the doctor, running a hand through his hair before he flops backwards on the bed, arms outstretched and staring up at the ceiling.

"That's certainly a bit better than what I was thinking." John says with a nod of his head. "I would rather not go through puberty a second time." He says with a little sigh. "And that is assuming that we will age normally. I hope we will. That would be even worse." He says with a little shake a he starts his hunt-and-peck type of typing as he tries to work on a blog entry explaining that he and Sherlock have gone to the States to work on a big case there and won't be available for consulting for a while, except by email, especially since neither of them want a phone call or something to blow their cover so the numbers listed on the website will not be answered. Of course he only writes this after reading what Sherlock put on his own site so that their stories will mesh without being identical. Of course, John's more creative writing style pretty much ensures that their accounts will not be identical.

Putting one forearm over his eyes for a few moments before he lets it fall out beside him again, Sherlock groans. "No, I don't want to go through puberty again either. The year my voice changed was not a pleasant one. I nearly lost my voice altogether for about a month during the worst of it." He says as he makes a face of disgust, shaking his head for a few moments and turning his head a little. "Maybe you can learn to type properly this time." he decides, though in truth the gentle tapping isn't too bad to listen to.

For a minute John stops in his typing and shakes his head a little, running a hand through his hair. "Bloody hell, Sherlock. We've got enough problems, I don't need to be worrying about my blood typing.

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**I'm sorry my updates have become so erratic, I've got too many stories going on all at once, but I am trying to fix that! I am trying to finish up a few so I can focus on this one and two others of mine that I love. :) Thanks everyone for bearing with me.**

**Because there seems to be some confusion about this, this story is intended to EVENTUALLY be Johnlock. Obviously not right now, since they're just kids. And at this point I don't even know when it will happen, but that is the goal I am heading toward. I hope that clears up any confusion.**

**Thank you all for reading and for commenting, please let me know what you think!**

**Reviews/comments are welcome!**


	12. Chapter 12

After finishing his blog entry, John sets his laptop aside and he grins a little. "So. How are we going to get back to London from here, so we can give our keepers the slip? I would still like to go back to Baker Street for a bit, let Mrs. Hudson know that we're ok." He says as he considers it, getting up as he notices that his pants are dirty and he wanders over to get out a new pair, not wanting to get dirt all over the comforter or anything.

"Getting back to Baker Street will not be a problem. I can merely ask my brother to have someone drive us there. I am sure we can convince Mrs. Hudson to let us sneak out the back afterwards." Sherlock says with a small smirk as he hops up, going to get some socks and pull them on before he goes to get his sneakers.

John grins a little and then he nods. "Meet you downstairs, then." He says as he trots off to the bathroom in order to change and such, excited to see Mrs. Hudson. It's been a week afterall, and she is a big mother figure for both him and Sherlock, though obviously Sherlock more than himself since the doctor hasn't known Mrs. Hudson for as long.

Getting up after getting his shoes on, Sherlock looks around and then grabs his coat before he heads back downstairs for the second time today. And while he hates having to rely on others, he knows that at this point it's a necessity, so he pushes open the doors to the study and walks over to stand in front of the desk where his brother is sitting, clasping his hands casually behind his back like he often did as an adult. "John and I require a car to bring us to Baker Street." He says rather bluntly as he watches his brother.

Looking up from the work on his desk to watch his brother approach, Mycroft sits back a little as he listens to the rather polite request, considering the source. "Ah, yes. Your loyalty to the landlady, Mrs. Hudson. I'll have a car brought around. Do you want me to go with you?" he asks curiously as he watches the young man before him.

"No, that's not necessary. You obviously have work, and there will likely be a great deal of emotions involved, Mrs. Hudson does tend to be a little touchy when she's concerned. And I imagine John and I's appearance will bring out the maternal instincts in her." Sherlock says thoughtfully, keeping his tone casual and relaxed, even thoughtful. He hopes that Mycroft won't catch onto the fact that the young brunette is blatantly manipulating his brother by playing on his feelings of discomfort when it comes to a anything dealing with emotions.

Shifting uncomfortably with a small look of distaste coming across his face briefly when the emotional aspect is mentioned, Mycroft nods a little as he looks at Sherlock for a few moments. "Of course." he says as he continues to watch the young man. "Do try to be back for dinner. I would rather you not be out after dark." He says with genuine concern before he turns to pick up the phone and call a car around for the two. "Please let me know if you go anywhere else besides Baker Street. You know how I worry." he adds after a moment.

A quick nod of his head, and Sherlock smirks for a moment. "Yes. I will." He hesitates for a few moments, then takes a deep breath. "Thank you." he says before he turns and walks out the door into the entry way, glad to see that John is already there and waiting. "There should be a car waiting out front to bring us to Baker Street." he says before he turns and walks out the door and to the waiting car.

Shaking his head a little, John follows Sherlock to the car. "Why am I always following you around?" he asks with a small grumble as he hops into the car and pulls the door shut behind him before he buckles up and waits.

"Because I'm interesting and I bring excitement into your life. And that's what you crave, John. You love the battlefield, it fixed your leg and the tremor in your hand." Sherlock says simply as he looks over at John, before smirks a little. "Mostly because you find me interesting and intriguing though." he says thoughtfully as he looks out the window for a few moments.

Putting a hand over his face and shaking his head slowly, John sighs quietly. "You are a bloody idiot, and a git. What's worse, is that you're right." He grumbles with a little shake of his head. "And you're still my best friend." He says after a moment with a small smile to take the sting out of his words. He's a little frustrated of course but that doesn't keep him from considering Sherlock to be his closest friend. Which may be a crazy statement in and of itself.

Turning his head a little to regard his friend for a moment, Sherlock can't help but smile a little and he nods quietly. "Well, that says something about you. Then again, you are the only person who is able to stand being my friend. So I suppose that says more about me than it does you, John. You are a patient, kind person." He reassures before he smiles a little. "Thank you. For staying around." He says before he turns to look back out the window, watching everything go by.

Turning to look out his own window, John nods a little. "You're welcome, Sherlock." He says with a little smile, glad that Sherlock is looking out his window and he is looking out his own window so the detective can't see his smile. That might lead to more questions.

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**Short little filler chapter. Sorry about that. Hope you all enjoy it! Next chapter: Mrs. Hudson is back! I missed her. So I will have a chapter with her. :D**

**Comments/Reviews welcome!**


	13. Chapter 13

When they arrive at Baker Street, Mrs. Hudson is already waiting at the door for them, ushering them inside. "Goodness, look at the two of you! So handsome." She says proudly, putting her hands on their backs to urge them toward her apartment. "Now, you two sit down, I'll make you a cuppa, and then you can tell me all about what kind of mischief you've gotten yourselves into." She says with another little smile. "Look at you, Sherlock.." She says as she puts her hand under his chin. "You are such a stunning child!" After a moment, she turns her attention to John, ruffling his hair a little. "And John, you're simply adorable." She says before she urges them toward the little table.

John just rolls his eyes a little, tugging on Sherlock's arm to lead him over to the table where he sits down, folding his hands in his lap. "We haven't been up to any mischief, Mrs. Hudson." He says a little defensively as he watches the woman move around the kitchen, having to fight his instincts to get up and help the elderly woman, since he doesn't think he'll be very helpful at the moment.

Tolerating the treatment of his person, Sherlock shows his affection by not snapping at the older woman and obediently sitting down, watching her closely to see what changes might have happened. "Don't look so worried, John. I'm sure Mrs. Hudson has had a welcome vacation from us these last few days." he says as he glances at John and sees the look on his face. "Clearly she's doing well without us to look after." He notes, though partly to plant the idea in Mrs. Hudson's head that they might not be around for a while since it's possible that they will be stuck that way for a little while which means they won't be able to visit Baker Street very often.

"Now don't you talk that way, Sherlock Holmes." Mrs. Hudson scolds as she brings tea back to the table along with some of their favorite biscuits. "You know I love you boys. I wouldn't mind if you came back to live here as you are. But I know, don't I. That wouldn't be a good idea for either of you. Wouldn't be safe, would it?" She asks as she pours them each a cup of tea and makes it just the way they like it, before she takes the last empty seat at the small table. "Have you made any progress finding out what exactly what did happen?" She asks as she looks between them.

With a small smirk, John takes his tea as he sips at it gently. "Mycroft's people are apparently working on it. In the meantime, I've been teaching Sherlock the joys of being a child again. Or maybe I should say the joys of being a child." he says as he grins over at Sherlock, then he leans toward Mrs. Hudson. "I even managed to get him into a mud fight." he says conspiratorially.

Sighing a little and shaking his head, Sherlock gives John a weak glare, slumping and sulking a little as he drinks his tea. "You're obsessed, John. You really should rethink your priorities at this point." He says simply as he watches his friend for a few moments, then he adds. "The part about the mud fight is true though. It was more mud wrestling, actually." he says thoughtfully as he snags a few biscuits and starts to nibble on them.

"That sounds lovely! Well, I imagine your brother wasn't too keen on that, Sherlock, but you boys should have a little fun. It does surprise me that Dr. Watson here was the one to start such a thing. It's amazing what a bit of youthful energy can do." Mrs. Hudson says affectionately as she looks at the two for a few moments. "Same as ever, bickering about the most trivial things! I'm glad to see you boys haven't changed all that much." She says quietly, a little amused. "I imagine you're here for more than just to talk to your dotty old landlady." She says with a little smirk. "Well, when you're finished upstairs, my back door is open, I'm sure you know the way to the alley, Sherlock." The elderly woman says with a small smile, a slightly impish look on her face as she looks at the two. "Now, if you excuse me, I am going to go watch some tellie, my shows are on." She says as she gets up, putting her hands on either side of John's face, kissing his forehead, then doing the same to Sherlock. "Oh, you boys, it's so good to see you. Do keep in touch." She says before she turns and goes to her sitting room, turning on her television rather loudly.

Allowing the kiss to his forehead and finishing his tea, Sherlock watches his landlady move off with a fond look, always having appreciated her and enjoyed her company. She's one of the very few people in his life that he truly love. "Come, John. Let us retrieve what we need and go out into the city." he says as he pops up from his chair, leading the way upstairs to their flat, looking around for a few moments. "I think Mycroft's agents actually cleaned." he mumbles as he pokes around to find what he wants.

Smirking in amusement and then nodding a little to Mrs. Hudson, John finishes his tea before he gets up and hurries after Sherlock, looking around the flat. "I think you're right. Blimey, but it's still a mess. We really need to get better about cleaning." he says with a shake of his head before he hurries upstairs, no longer able to take them two at a time, but he gets to his room and gets a duffel, putting his gun, the cleaning kit, and a few other things inside of it before he heads back downstairs. It's just a small duffel so it doesn't look odd for his 10 year old self to be carrying it, it just looks like more of an overnight bag.

"Did you get everything you need?" Sherlock asks without looking up from digging around in his desk drawer, grinning as he comes up with his kit of tools and he grabs his little moleskin book that he carries around everywhere with him, tucking it away in his pocket before he steps over to John, putting a few more of his trinkets that he wants to keep close in the duffel that John is carrying. "Hm. I haven't had a nicotine craving at all for the last few days. That's rather interesting." He says after he glances at the skull which was the secret hiding place that John last used for his emergency cigarettes.

Sighing a little when he realizes he once again is getting stuck carrying everything, John watches and listens to the detective, considering for a few moments. "So whatever happened to us changed us physically first. that is.. general age and size.. then it's started to get rid of the more serious damage.. your scars and nicotine addiction, and my wound.." he says as he touches his shoulder self-consciously for a moment, frowning briefly. "I hope it doesn't affect our minds."

Nodding a little, Sherlock frowns briefly before he looks more carefully at John. "Yes. We need to keep careful track of ourselves and each other, make sure that we are not reverting. More than embracing childhood, but truly forgetting things, recent things that have happened, or important things. If we start to suffer from any form of amnesia, we will have to put all our efforts into finding a cure for this thing. I do not want to lose my memories as well as live through my youth again." he says with some frustration, mostly that he's learned so much and all his experiences would be lost. Not something that he wants.

"Right. So today, let's do a little London exploring, see how things are different. It's an excellent way for you to get a view of how people treat children differently." John offers as he looks at Sherlock. "Through the eyes and mental acuity of an adult, of course. You could remain completely objective." It's a bit manipulative, and he does kind of know how to play Sherlock, but really he just wants to go out in London, and see things through a fresh pair of eyes. "And then tomorrow, we can worry more about the permanence of this." he offers as he looks at the brunette, checking his bag to make sure that he and Sherlock both have their wallets, and therefore have some money, before he starts to head for this door.

Knowing when he's been played but strangely not caring, Sherlock nods a little as he watches the doctor and follows him downstairs, grabbing his arm to lead the blonde out Mrs. Hudson's back door to the alley beyond and therefore avoid their driver who is still waiting out front. "That is an excellent idea, John. You know me too well."

* * *

**Well, this is never going to end well. Thank you all for sticking with me as I try to work myself out of my writing slump, and fight through my oncoming cold. Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Reviews/Comments welcome!**


	14. Chapter 14

Slipping out and getting around their driver isn't hard, considering Sherlock's photographic memory of London. Once they're a safe distance away, they stop in an alley, John looking around for a few moments. "Blimey, everything does look a bit different. The height difference is disorienting." he admits as he looks around for a few moments, then adds, "Should we start with the park? Since we're kids, there's a good reason for us to be there." He offers as he walks to the mouth of the alley and peeks both ways just to make sure there aren't any cops that might think of them as hooligans, or worse, think they're homeless or something and try and pick them up. He doesn't want to have to call on Lestrade this early in the game.

Sherlock nods a little as he looks at John. "It's not far from here." he says as he looks at John, joining him by the edge of the alley leaning out over him a little since he's taller he can peek out over John's head no problem. Nodding a little, he grabs the blonde's arm and smiles. "Come on." he says before he hands the duffel to the younger boy and hurries through the crowds of people, trusting - as he always does - that the other boy is not too far behind him.

Thankfully for John, he has a lot of practice in running after Sherlock, and while they're not exactly running, Fate is not kind and since the brunette is still taller, the shorter blonde has to hurry in order to keep up. But he grins a little, finally catching up and maintaining a swift pace beside him. "Not many kids running around London, we're getting a few suspicious looks, especially from older people, did you notice?" he asks of his friend, then sighs a little. "Of course you bloody well noticed. You're, well.. you." He says with a wave of his hand in Sherlock's general direction.

"Very eloquent, as always, John." Sherlock says with a slight smirk sent in the doctor's direction as he finally stops at a crosswalk. He knows that his smaller body would be more susceptible to serious injury and no one would believe a 10 year old is really a doctor, so if he were to get hit by a car or something his chances of his survival are low. Of course, that's all theoretical since he has no plans to get hit by any cars, which is why he's being so cautious when crossing the road just now.

Once the light turns, John heads across the street with Sherlock and into the park, shaking his head for a few moments. "You could be a little less pompous. You're 12. It's not a good look." he says with a little bit of amusement, hefting the bag over his shoulder. "And why am I carrying the duffel all of a sudden?" he asks curiously, arching an eyebrow at the detective.

Sherlock glances at John for a few moments, stopping on the side of one of the park paths. "Naturally because you're stronger, your stocky, sturdier frame means that you could carry it more easily." he says before he hesitates. "My frame at this age was, is.. smaller, more frail, I was not capable of the same strength as I was later in life." A small frown is given as he looks up at the sky. "I got sick a few times when I was very young, younger than I appear now. That's what started my love of science, I had to stay inside and I read a great deal." He says thoughtfully before he looks away and keeps walking further into the park, looking around at the people.

That gets John concerned though, and after a few moments of surprise, the blonde jogs to catch up with his friend. "Sherlock. Why didn't you tell me that before?" he asks in a disapproving tone. "No wonder you have such an obsession with mind over body, controlling and suppressing impulses. If you were prone to sickness as a child.. Bloody hell, Sherlock, you should have told me." He says with a small shake of his head. "Especially now that we're children again..." When the taller boy doesn't stop walking, John reaches out to grab his arm and try and stop him, looking very worried. "Sherlock."

Stopping his forward motion when his arm is being grabbed, Sherlock turns around to look at his friend, "What?" He asks, sounding irritable. "I likely had attempted to delete the information of my sickness since it was not a pleasant thought. And it held no useful information as I was not a sickly child, John. I merely had a serious sickness once." he says as he looks at the younger boy. "As you can see, I am still in perfect health, but if you insist on examining me every time I get exposed to germs, then we will spend half our time with you examining me. Honestly, John, that would be a waste of time and quite tiresome." he says in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest in an odd gesture for him, almost petulant or sulking, but not in his usual way.

Rolling his eyes rather dramatically, John shakes his head a little. "Of course. Right. Heaven forbid I should care about you in any way, shape, or form." he says before he shifts his hold on the duffel. "Come on, forget about it. Let's just keep walking, hanging out in one place is going to attract attention. I'd rather not end our day before it begins." he adds with an innocent smile that looks far too impish on his boyish face.

Staring at John and trying to figure him out doesn't get the detective anywhere, it just confuses him a little, so Sherlock just turns and starts walking with him. "You care about a great many people, John. I am merely still not used to being counted among them." he says as he looks at the doctor. "Be patient with me, John." he says with a faint smile before he adds, "Now.. let us see what we can see." He says as he grabs John's coat sleeve and tugs him through some bushes into a small clearing. The way the bushes are arranged, it's very easy to see out of them but not so easy to see into the little clearing.

"I get the feeling that you spend a lot of time here, Sherlock. People watching? How long have you been using this spot?" John asks, crouching down to keep out of the way of the leaves and some branches, setting the duffel on the bag and balancing himself with his hands on them.

"Oh, I've been using this spot for years, John." Sherlock says in a quiet tone, smirking a little as he kneels down in the grass next to the doctor, running a hand through his hair to get the longer locks back from his face. "As you said, it's an excellent spot to observe human behavior. Before we go any further, I wanted to do a small check on my abilities to make sure that my mental acuity has not been affected by this transformation we've gone through. I am relatively confident that it has not, but a small check would not go amiss." he explains as his mercurial eyes start to move over the people moving along the paths that lay just beyond the bushes, creeping a little closer to the edge of the leaves in order to get a better look.

Chuckling a little for a few moments, John shakes his head but follows Sherlock's lead and sticks close to his side. "I think I can reasonably vouch for your mental state." he reassures, voice dropping to a whisper almost unconsciously as he looks at some of the people as well, "This is a little creepy, being able to see them like this." he says as he pulls the duffel a little closer, not letting go of the straps to it. Just in case.

With a sideways glance at his companion, Sherlock just smirks a little and he nods quietly. "It may seem so to you, but it's not as if we're doing anything we could not do sitting on a park bench. Except that people act differently when they feel they might be observed." He explains as he turns his head a little when he sees a young couple talking, listening to them talk about possibly moving to a bigger place or getting out of London, something the man wants to do but the woman is against. "Don't worry, John. We won't be here long."

* * *

**Because of how things are going, I am going to change to updating once a week, I think. Probably Tuesdays. At least until I pare down some of my stories, so I don't have quite so many going all at once. I sort of got in over my head with these, lol. But I'm glad that everyone is still enjoying this. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, I truly do enjoy hearing what you think of my stories. Helps me know if I'm going in the right direction. :D**

**Hopefully I can think of some trouble for these two to get into for my next chapter. :)**

**As always, Reviews/Comments welcome!**


	15. Chapter 15

True to his word, Sherlock doesn't sit there for very long until he's satisfied that his mental acuity has not been affected by their change in state. "Alright. Where should we go?" he asks as he moves over to the center of the clearing and sits down, thinking of all their favorite spots.

"We can't go anywhere where people might recognize us. Well, pretty much we can't go to Angelo's. He is a big gossip and you know it. As much as we both might want to see the look on his face. You know as well as I do that if the bad guys find out we're in this vulnerable state, we could be in serious trouble." John says as he looks at Sherlock, kneeling down across from him in the grass as he thinks about things. "I was thinking of causing a bit of trouble somewhere, enough to attract an officer, so that we could get ourselves brought to Lestrade's office." he says with a slight grin.

Considering the matter for a few moments, Sherlock then nods quietly, running a hand through his hair. "Indeed. That does sound quite amusing. But I think that we need to make a few changes first." He says as he considers for a few moments, then runs a hand through his hair a bit. "I think it's about time for me to get a haircut, John." he says as he looks at his friend.

Since that's such a quick change in subject, John pauses and stares at Sherlock for a moment. "Really?" he asks in surprise. "Well, I suppose if you cut your hair you would look very different, and I'm not really distinctive on my own, I could be any kid." he says as he looks at Sherlock for a few moments, reaching over and slicking back his hair, holding it in place with both hands as he examines the younger boy's face. "Yeah, you're right. Could change it enough that between your features being a bit softer as a kid and the hair, no one would recognize you. Besides, you won't be in your signature suit." he says as he looks at the other boy, finally releasing his head and sitting back a little. "Do you have any cash? Doubt we could use our cards, seeing as we're so young." he says as he digs into their bag, pulling out his wallet and taking out the meager amount of cash to stuff it in his pocket.

A small nod is given and Sherlock pulls out his own wallet and pulls the cash out to tuck it into his pocket. "I have a bit. We can always use an ATM if we have to." he says as he looks at John, then he stuffs his wallet back in the bag securely before he motions. "I know of a place nearby." he says as he slowly moves to leave the same way they entered, straightening up once outside and then brushing himself off a little before he looks back at John. "Shall we?" he asks with a little smile.

Sighing since he is stuck carrying the bag again, John shakes his head good-naturedly since he's sort of used to it. "Right. Of course." he says as he brushes himself off as well. "You know a place for everything." He points out before he looks around for a few moments, brushing a few needles form the bushes out of his hair, before he steps over to stand beside his friend.

"I do have a mental map of London, John. It stands to reason that I would not only memorize streets but places as well." Sherlock shakes his head for a moment and then turns to head down one of the paths after orienting himself, putting his hands in his coat pockets and starting to walk, looking around at everything. After winding through the paths for a few minutes, they come out on the main road and Sherlock pauses only to keep from running into someone who wasn't watching where they were going, before he walks across the street and continues down the block toward the place that he knows of. In fact he's been there before, but thankfully not more than once or twice in his life which means there's a good chance he won't be remembered.

"Might need to get a trim myself while we're there, it's been a while since I had a haircut." John admits since he realizes now just how long his hair was getting and he thinks maybe he should go back to a shorter haircut, or at least as short as when he met Sherlock. Plus, it's just easier to manage.

After glancing briefly over at the shorter blonde, Sherlock nods. "Yes. Shorter hair looks better on you. I didn't realize your hair was so.. golden. Hm. More the color of hay I suppose. But, you're quite a bit younger and with less gray in your hair than when we first met." he notes, which makes a few people who pass them at that moment give them confused glances. The detective just shrugs a little and keeps walking, turning the corner and then smiling lightly. "There we are." he says as he sees the barber shop, pushing the door open and holding it for John.

Following the taller boy, John steps into the small shop, waiting for the sound of the bell to fade before he looks at the two attendants. It's the middle of a week day so there's no one really waiting, one of the barbers working on a customer, the other having been tidying his station.

Being a man in his mid-thirties with plain brown hair and a plain face to go with it but with brilliant blue eyes, he seems to be in good shape still, and turns to look at the two boys. "Good afternoon, boys. Oh, you two look like you need a bit of a cut. Who's first?" he asks as he turns his chair toward the two with an open, friendly smile.

Without even blinking, Sherlock walks over and hops up into the chair, getting comfortable for a few moments before he looks up at the barber. "I'd like it short." he says as he looks at the man. "Very short." He instructs before he gets comfortable after the bib is put around him.

Pumping the seat up a little, the barber smiles a little. "Hitting your rebellion a bit early, eh? See boys like you all the time. With curls like these, bet your mum dotes over em', never lets you cut your hair, right? Finally got a bit of money together and decided to do it yourself, hm?" he says as he starts spraying down the young man's hair to wet it down, and then starts cutting, taking big chunks off of it first before he starts paring it down, making it half as short before he meets Sherlock's eyes in the mirror. "Shorter?" he guesses and when he gets a confirming nod he keeps cutting until it's much shorter, brushing off the excess hair and putting a bit of product in his hair to give it a mussed up look. "There you are, my boy." He says finally, shaking his head for a few moments. "Whole different look."

Waiting patiently while his hair is cut, Sherlock takes a deep breath and then nods once as he glances at the barber. "Yes. Quite. Thank you." he says before he waits for the bib to be removed and slips out of the chair, looking over at John.

Staring for a moment since it does make Sherlock look entirely different, John moves over and touches Sherlock's hair slowly before he shakes his head. "Bloody hell, you look weird." he says before he smiles a little. "Just.. weird. Not bad. Wonder what your brother will think." he says with a little laugh before he moves to the chair and hops up into it, glancing at the barber. "I just need more of a trim. Bit longer in the front." he says as he motions to his hair as he tries to explain it.

The barber just nods a little. "You two boys are up to no good, aren't you? Oh, don't worry, I don't judge." He says with a laugh. "I was young once, I can tell when two young boys are up to mischief." he says with a small smile. "You boys better be able to pay for this." He notes with a small frown at them both.

Since John can't exactly go to it, Sherlock pulls money out of his pocket, looks at the rates that are on the wall and pulls out the appropriate amount, including tip, placing it on the counter under the mirror at the barber's station. "That should cover it, I believe." He says simply, putting the rest of the money away before he goes back to standing by the duffel, fidgeting slightly and scratching his head and touching his hair, trying to get used to it.

"Sorry about that. Can't be too careful." The barber says with a small smile at Sherlock, finishing up rather quickly with John and cleaning him up. "There you are, young man. Now you two look a little more respectable." he says with a nod of his head, starting to sweep everything up. "You two be careful out there, London can be a dangerous place."

John runs a hand through his hair and then nods quietly. "Thank you sir, we know. We'll be careful." he says, satisfied that enough money was left, he goes to get the duffel, picking it up and watching Sherlock. "Ready?" he asks, grinning a little at his friend. "Wonder what Lestrade will say when he sees you.." he says with a little laugh. "At least Anderson and Donovan probably won't recognize you." he says as he starts to move toward the door with his friend.

With a small nod of his head, Sherlock glances at the barber over his shoulder before he follows John out the door, considering for a few moments where they might go and idly leading John closer to Scotland Yard, where more police are so there's a greater chance of them getting caught causing mischief. Which is not something that he often says. "I am sure Lestrade will be exasperated when we're brought before him." he says with a small chuckle before he leads John to a small shop. "I know how cranky you get when you don't get proper meals." he says in response to the blonde's questioning look, blatantly ignoring it when his stomach gives a growl.

Not being able to help grinning a little, John nods and rubs a hand through his hair, always finding it an odd sensation after he gets a haircut. That, and the back of his neck itches a little from the small stray hairs. Still, he glances over at Sherlock and nods. "Of course, you're doing this for my benefit. Surely not for your own." He says with a little bit of sarcasm, chuckling a little as he steps into the small sandwich shop, stepping up to the counter and glancing at the menu before ordering, letting Sherlock order as well before he pays. Once they're both settled down with their food, John considers. "Best way to cause a bit of trouble that I can think of would be near Scotland Yard. Maybe try to get in, say we're trying to see our uncle or something of the sort. Would get us brought straight to him at least." he says with a small smirk. "I know you want to mess with Anderson or Donovan or both.. but be subtle about it." he warns as he watches the brunette.

"You seem to insist on thinking that I am somehow irrational, John. I do realize the situation that I have brought on us. The inherent dangers and traps with it as well. I am not going to do anything which will put us in danger." Sherlock says in a slightly annoyed tone as he eats, sighing a little and out of habit going to brush his hair back a little only to find there is no hair to brush back, which makes him pause for a moment before he lowers his hand. "I believe I have a rather suitable prank for Anderson, one befitting our age." he says with a small smile as he watches John, then he finishes eating and sits back to observe the room, clever eyes switching from one subject to another.

Sighing a little and rubbing his forehead with one hand for a moment, John nods quietly. "I'm sorry, Sherlock. But you do have a record of being rather brash and charging in without thinking about things first." he points out as he looks up at his friend.

Seeming to be distracted for a moment but finally bringing his attention back to the doctor, Sherlock finally nods a little. "Well. I suppose you're right. But I do understand the stakes." He reassures as he looks at the others in the shop, too distracted at the moment as his mind wanders a little for him to be able to focus on John.

"Alright." John finally finishes his food as he watches the brunette. "Let's go, then."

* * *

**Well, updating once a week also lets me do longer chapters! Lol. I am aiming for the chapters to be able to get to double the length the previous ones were since I have longer to work on them. This is the first in my routine hopefully, and since I have a lot to do with this there should be plenty more to come! Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me through my transition here and of course to everyone who has reviewed and followed this story! I hope I continue to live up to your high praise!**

**Reviews/Comments welcome, as always. :)**


	16. Chapter 16

About a block away from the barber shop, John looks down at the bag they're carrying, then back up at the boy walking beside him. "We need to stash this bag somewhere before we get to Scotland Yard. If they find what we have in there.." he says before trailing off. Specifically his gun that he has in the bag. That would not be a good thing for Scotland Yard to find in his bag, they might think he's a young terrorist or something. And then there would be questions and paperwork and things like that and all of that would not be a good thing.

Stopping his forward progress, Sherlock looks over at his companion for a moment, then glances down at the bag as if he didn't realize it was still there until now. "Yes. Quite right. Of course." For a moment his eyes dart back and forth as he goes through his mental map of London and tries to figure out exactly what to do or where to hide the bag. "I have a place." he finally decides as he looks over at John, tugging at his sleeve to bring him down an alleyway, weaving through buildings. "We have to keep out of view of the CCTV cameras as much as possible, until we're ready to be caught of course." he says with a little smirk over at his doctor.

Chuckling a little, John nods quietly as he easily follows the detective, thinking he actually recognizes some of these alleys but it's more likely that one alley looks like every other one that they've been down. "That sounds like a good idea to me. He probably already knows we've been to get our hair cut. I hope he doesn't want to kill you too much for cutting your hair off." he says as he looks at the brunette again for a few moments, thinking about how odd he looks with such short hair and trying to resist reaching out to touch it, wondering how different it might feel than the other few times he's touched Sherlock's hair.

"Likely he won't be pleased. Mummy was always fond of my curls, she never would have let me get my hair cut this short. And I'm sure you can tell that Mycroft apparently inherited the baldness gene. One more reason Mummy always wanted me to keep my hair long. My dear brother will probably scold me for cutting my hair, even though I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions." he says before touching his hair self-consciously, scratching his long fingers through it for a few moments before he glances at John. "Does it look alright, though? It would be vexing if Mycroft was too upset with me." he says in a slightly annoyed tone, but yet worried at the same time. It seems that under it all he really does love his brother and values the opinion of the man who was more like a father to him.

"It looks good. Different, but good. And I can understand why he could be a bit upset, seeing as you just went off and did it on a whim, but I don't think he should be overly upset. You're right, it's your decision, and it's not like it won't grow back." John reassures Sherlock as he ducks through an opening in a fence after the slimmer boy. "Maybe this whole little experience will help you and he become a bit closer. Would be nice not to have you two snarking at each other constantly. You are brothers and it's obvious you love each other." he says rather bluntly, grunting as he walks into Sherlock's back, stumbling back a step. "Oiy, you can't just stop like that!" he hisses, rubbing his nose a little.

With a slight glare sent in John's direction, Sherlock points to a smallish brick building, set apart a bit from the ones on either side and boarded up. "We can put it in there, it will be safe. I've used this as a stash spot for years and no one has ever stolen anything from inside. Mostly because they don't know how to get in." The older boy explains before he jogs across the street and goes around to the back of the building, ducking through some bushes to a small hatch-like door that leads into what appears to be a fireplace/chimney type of thing, which has a big hole in it leading into the main room.

Though old and sparse, the room isn't as dirty as you might expect. There's the remnants of candles, an overturned chair and a desk, along with what was probably a pillow at one time, but it's degraded enough that it's not usable, though the shape is still recognizable. Ignoring everything else, Sherlock walks over to the right corner of the room closes to where they came in, and he steps on a board which loosens up one end and he leans down to pulls it up, revealing a space below. "In there." he says simply as he looks at John expectantly.

After taking a few moments to look around, John frowns and then follows Sherlock over to the corner, making sure they have all the cash out of their wallets, and removing a pocket knife as well to tuck it into his pants before he tucks the bag under the floor board and stands back up, brushing his knees off. "You used to come here a lot, then? Did you scare the neighbors with your violin music?" he asks, amused at the thought and trying to lighten the mood a little since he has a feeling that this building once had a much more sinister use.

"There's no one that would be listening or that would care if I did that, but no, I would not bring my violin here, the acoustics are horrible and I wouldn't want to ruin it with the dust in the air." The lean detective says as he motions around the building for a few moments, walking over to turn the chair back upright and then touches the edge of the desk for a few moments. "But I did spend quite a bit of time here when I needed to.. get away. When I needed privacy, away from prying eyes." he explains as he looks over at John.

Chuckling a little and then smiling, John nods as he looks around the room, a little more closely this time. He moves away from his spot in the corner and moves around the edges of the room, looking at everything. "I can see it. You running away, lightning these bloody candles and probably making people think that a ghost had taken up residence here. What was this buildings original use anyway?" he asks as he looks up at the ceiling. "Do you know?" he asks as he turns his attention back to the lanky boy who is watching him like a hawk.

Nodding and turning in a stationary circle to take everything in, Sherlock finally looks back at John. "Of course I know, I wouldn't come here without at least having a modicrum of knowledge about the place, to know whether it's structurally sound, or if I would be disturbed by the landlords coming by to check on their building." He says in a dismissive, condescending tone, sighing a little in frustration. "Honestly, John, you should know better, I am not a moron." He points out as he looks at the doctor, but he knows the blonde will not be satisfied with that answer, so with a slightly exasperated expression, he clasps his hands behind his back and starts to explain. "This building has served several purposes. It seems to be originally been built as a tax office, but it was quickly changed into an accounting office. During World War I, they used it as a recruitment office. After that, a few small businesses and charities moved through it, but during World War II, it was abandoned. The area went into decline as it was close to an area where there were several bombings so people left and they merely have not come back since property values plummeted, and the buildings are too expensive to renovate to modern standards." he says as he looks at John, before he adds, "We should go, or we may not get to Scotland Yard while Lestrade is there, much less before his shift ends." he says before he turns back toward the hole in the fireplace, slipping out and then waiting for the smaller doctor.

Intrigued, but knowing that as always, his bloody genius flatmate is correct, John follows him out. "You really did do your research." he says with a little smile and then nods quietly as he brushes himself off, hoping that even after that he looks presentable. Though at least being a young boy means that he has a little more leeway in being dirty. People always expect boys to be a little dirty just because they tend to be more rowdy. "Come on, then.. I know that big brain of yours has come up with some sort of plan, so how are we going to cause a bit of mischief?" he asks with a little grin as he looks at Sherlock.

With a look of a troublemaker that probably caused havoc to his nannies, Sherlock grins for a few moments over at his friend. "We're merely going to try and get into Scotland Yard to see our Uncle Lestrade, and tell him how very mean Uncle Mycroft is being..." he says with a small chuckle, leading John back through the streets, not caring so much about being seen anymore so he takes the most direct route he can to Scotland Yard.

A laugh comes from John before he grins a little and nods. "Nothing too serious though, we don't want Mycroft to get into any real trouble, so just the trivial things that kids come up with.. won't take us to the park, won't give us cake or something as ridiculous as that." he says with a little smile, grabbing onto Sherlock's sleeve lightly to keep the taller boy from running off without him since he was starting to get ahead a bit, clearly excited about the trouble he can make for the Yarders.

After rolling his eyes a little, Sherlock glances at John, giving the other boy his best 'you are an absolute idiot' look before he stops at a crosswalk to wait for the light to turn. "Of course, John. And while I think it would be nearly impossible to get Mycroft into the type of trouble that would do any real damage, I don't wish that sort of treatment on my brother." he says simply as he looks over at John, then starts walking again, glancing up at the building that is starting to come into view.

"Good." John says simply as he looks at Sherlock, and then when they get closer to the Yard, he changes slightly, his grip on Sherlock's sleeve getting a little tighter and he shuffles closer to Sherlock, putting on more of a meek look and one of a child who is distraught and a little scared to be in the big bad city all by himself.

"John, what the-" Sherlock begins, then he catches on and smirks a little. "Well done, John. I underestimated your acting abilities." He mutters as he schools his features and watches the apparently younger boy, finally approaching the building and putting on the air of a boy trying to look tough and strong for his friend and trying to be an adult as he casually approaches the Yard building.

* * *

**SO sorry for the delayed chapter. I had a really bad week, and I couldn't write, and then by the time I started writing I didn't think I could get two chapters done, so I decided to just delay and give you one. I feel like a jerk for it, sorry all! Thank you for anyone who has stuck with it, and to those who are reviewing! I love to hear what you guys think. Enjoy!**

**Reviews/Comments welcome!**


	17. Chapter 17

Of course they're stopped just inside the doors by one of the officers. "Something I can help you boys with?" The younger woman asks as she looks at the boys, seeming concerned for them, and wanting kids herself so she's especially sympathetic to the two lost looking boys.

Sherlock looks up at the young woman, reading her easily and being the better actor of the two of them, so he looks sad but determined. "We would like to see our uncle." he says simply as he looks up at her, then he looks at John, then back at the officer. "His name is Lestrade." He adds after a moment.

A little surprised when she hears the name the officer stares at Sherlock for a few moments. "Oh.. I didn't know that he had any nieces or nephews.." She murmurs quietly, then adds, "I'm not allowed to bring you boys up to Homicide without calling up there first. Are you boys in danger, is anything wrong?"S he ask in concern since most children won't just wander into Scotland Yard.

"My brother was being mean to us, we didn't want to stay there anymore. We know Uncle Lestrade was here, and so we came here." Sherlock informs the officer matter-of-factly.

Of course the kid saying someone is being mean to them could be a few different things but it does set off a few alarm bells. Crouching down in front of the two boys and looking between them, the woman looks very serious as she asks, "Mean? How was he being mean, did he hurt you?"S he asks as she immediately scans them to injuries or any sign of abuse.

John finally speaks up as he moves more beside his friend rather than slightly behind like he had been before. "He won't let us do anything." he says as he looks at the woman, tears welling up in his eyes a little, making good use of his smaller, young appearance. "He won't let us go outside and play, he yelled at us to stay quiet, and he wouldn't let us have any snacks or ice cream.." he even adds a little whine to his tone, crossing his arms over his chest sullenly.

Visibly relieved, the young officer hangs her head for a moment and shakes it before she smiles. "Alright,. you little rascals. Let me call up to homicide."S he says with a little smile before she stands and walks over to the front desk where she can pick up a phone.

They aren't too far from the elevator and from where they're standing they can see the doors to it. When Sherlock notices that the elevator is coming down, he looks over at John, tipping his head toward the elevators. "Shall we make a dash for it?" he asks in a whispered tone to his friend.

Smirking a little as he considers it, John nods quietly and then waits until the doors ding. "Now!" He says quickly before he dashes toward the elevator, Sherlock on his heels. This causes a lot of commotion of course, officers yelling at them to stop, but the two manage to slip into the elevator and get the doors closed before they can be retrieved, and John grins a little over at Sherlock. "I think I have to correct myself.. THAT was probably the most ridiculous thing we've ever done." he says with a little laugh, leaning against the back of the elevator.

After selecting the proper floor, Sherlock grins a little. "Don't worry, John. I plan to do something much more ridiculous. I am sure that Anderson has the proper chemicals in his lab so that we can create a fun little surprise for him." he says with a positively evil smirk on his face as he looks at his friend.

"Bloody hell.. I know that look, and I have a feeling I know what you're going to do.." he says as he looks at Sherlock, before he chuckles a little. "Stink bomb?" He offers as he looks at the brunette as he tries to figure out what that devious mind might be coming up with now.

"While not initially what I had been thinking, that is a much better idea, John. We should connect a remote trigger to something, his chair perhaps, so we can be sure we target the right person." The detective says a he thinks about it, peeking out when the elevator doors open and grabbing John's hand to lead him down the hall to Anderson's lab, making sure that no one is in there before they go inside.

The lab is empty so it doesn't take long for them to assemble the proper chemicals, setting up the bomb under Anderson's desk before hooking a string to the chair which will release the 'activation' chemical into the rest. After they've set it up, John does have a moment of doubt though. "Are you sure we should do this, they might have protocols for things like this, and might think it's more serious than it is.." He says before he considers it.

After voicing his doubt, they make an addition of a sign that will pop up that says 'You stink, Anderson!', and of course they do all of this with gloves and such to make sure that they don't leave any fingerprints or anything that can be traced back to them.

Finally, they take the stairs and heads up to Lestrade's department, John giggling most of the way there. When they finally wander in, the department is in a bit of a tizzy. "Boys!" Lestrade barks when he sees them, then he points to his office. "My office. Now." he says in a firm tone as he motions to it sharply. "Alright, everyone, calm down, seems that they found their way up here afterall." he says in a louder tone to the rest of the department before he waits for the others.

While Sherlock seems unaffected by the tone of voice, John had the good grace to look a little sheepish, but still a bit smug as well, and definitely unrepentant. "Good afternoon, Lestrade." he says as he looks at the older man.

Once they're inside the office and the door is closed, Greg closes the blinds and sighs. "Bloody hell, we were searching the entire building for you two. You can't just do things like that." he scolds before he sighs and finally take a good look at the two. "Why did you cut your hair, Sherlock? Blimey, your brother is going to kill me.. Or at least have me demoted, you he might kill." he says with a little shake of his head, sighing a little before he ruffles Sherlock's hair. "Should have known you would show up here eventually, you rascals are good at sneaking about." He says before he leans back against his desk. "So.. where have you been for the last half an hour?" he asks after crossing his arms over his chest and doing his best to look disapproving, even though he I charmed by the boys and finds it hard to not smile at their antics.

"We may or may not have stopped by Anderson's office to leave him a bit of a present. Nothing harmful, don't worry." John says with a little smile at Lestrade. "We made a few stops before coming here." The blonde says, before he clarifies. "Before coming to Scotland Yard, I mean. We were sick of being locked up, I needed a haircut anyway, and Sherlock decided that having the shorter hair would keep him from being recognized as much when we were out and about." He explains as he looks up at the older man, sitting down in one of the chairs with a little smirk.

With a small little groan, Lestrade puts a hand over his face. "You two will be the death of me. Mycroft is already on the way over, by the way, he had some news and found out that his driver lost you. Not to mention I thought I should inform him that you had disappeared inside Scotland Yard. You boys can't do that again. Not while you're kids. Promise me you won't do that again." he says in a firm, no-nonsense tone as he levels them both with a little bit of a glare to make sure that they understand the seriousness of the situation.

"Fine. Alright. We promise, we will observe the proper procedures if we must visit here again." Sherlock says in a sulky tone as he sits down in a chair heavily and stretches out his legs in front of him, crossing his arms and then looking up at Lestrade with an unhappy look.

Giggling a little, John grins over at his friend before shaking his head. "Mycroft coming is just as well, but we need to get our stuff before we go back to the mansion." He points out, then adds, "We stashed some stuff we picked up from 221B that would not have made it through the metal detectors and such downstairs." he explains as he looks at Lestrade with a little smile, leaning back in his chair.

"Sherlock. Will you never cease these games?" Mycroft asks as he walks into the office with his ever-present umbrella, looking like he might as well be picking up Sherlock at the principal's office. "Thank you for keeping an eye on them, Greg." he says as he looks at the two boys for a few moments.

"Oh, this is school all over again." Sherlock says as he looks at his brother, then at Lestrade. "Which makes you the authority figure. Quite apt if you think about it. Which I'm sure you'll have to." He adds in a dry tone before he looks over at John for a moment. "Well, we were going to visit for a while, but perhaps you had better take us home and we can merely visit another day." He offers as he stands up, knowing that Anderson should be back in his office and the stink bomb will go off soon, so he'd rather not be in the building when that happens.

John slowly stands as well and he smiles. "We need to stop off somewhere first, though. Honestly, I thought you would have been here before we even got here... I wonder how long the driver sat outside before he realized we weren't coming back out." he says as he glances at Sherlock before he snorts a little with amusement, stretching. "Alright.. let's go get our stuff and go back, then." he says before he holds his wrists out toward Mycroft.

At that gesture from the blonde, Greg laughs a little, and puts a hand over his mouth to try and stifle it a little, looking at them for a moment before he reaches out and ruffles John's hair. "You and Sherlock are going to get us in so much trouble.. I thought you were the reasonable one, John, but you're worse than Sherlock is, now, I think." he says with amusement.

With a little chuckle of his own, Sherlock grins. "Come on, John. We may as well go before we're carted out of here." he says as he grabs one of John's wrists and half drags him toward the door and the elevators.

Mycroft watches them go and then shakes his head for a few moments before he takes a deep breath. "Thank you for your patience, Greg." he says before he turns toward the door. "You should come by for dinner if your schedule permits." He says over his shoulder before he walks over and joins the two by the elevators, resting one hand on Sherlock's head. "Mummy would be so heartbroken if she saw what you did to your hair, Sherlock." He says in a disappointed tone, hand moving from his head to his shoulder. "However, it does seem to suit you and makes you a bit unrecognizable for those who know you." he says with a nod of his head. "Well done." he says after a moment, putting a hand on John's back and standing between the two boys to urge them into the elevator as the doors open.

"Yes, I rather thought it would be wise." Sherlock says simply as he looks around the elevator for a few moments, then yawns slightly, pulling out his phone to glance at the time on it. "We'll instruct your driver where to go so we can collect our things." He says as they exit the elevator and head toward the black government car that is waiting at the curb.

Holding the door open for the two, Mycroft nods a little. "Yes, you disappeared from CCTV for some time Sherlock. Interesting to know how you have managed to mentally map out the network." he says as he waits for the two to get into the car before he gets in as well, waiting for Sherlock to give instructions before they head off toward a road close to where they stashed their stuff.

"I have had lots of time to get around your little network of spies, Mycroft. Did you think I didn't know of a way?" Sherlock asks in surprise, eyebrows going up before he settles down comfortably in his seat.

"You know, if he didn't feel like you were spying on him all the time, he wouldn't have had to learn how to avoid the CCTV cameras, and then would be easier to find if there truly were an emergency." John points out as he looks between them before he looks away and out the window, watching the London streets pass by.

* * *

**Ok, so I sort of wimped out on everything I COULD have done in Lestrade's office, but I thought this flowed a little bit better, and I figured Sherlock and John would want to be out when the stink bomb went off. Hehee. Don't worry, I have a feeling Lestrade will be coming over to have a bit of a chat. :)**

**Thank you to everyone who has followed and reviewed, I love to hear from you!**

**Reviews/Comments welcome!**


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